Kiwi in Kamchacta
by Aeslehc
Summary: An old clanmate to the prince is being held hostage by a madman in Kamchacta. R&R please.
1. Kiwi

Disclaimer: White-Wolf stuff...not mine... Neopets...Not mine... "Up the Down Staircase"...not mine. Er...anything else that isn't mine is also not mine.

CHAPTER ONE: A visit from an old friend, as told by Aeslehc Kralc

Alone in the dark with but a serene blue glow on my face, I felt it rise. It came to take me, to pull me back from all that I had obtained, to drain whatever hope I had left... I clinched my fists in rage and growled darkly at the—

"Aes?"

--screen. I blinked and glanced up as my significant other chose this time to make an appearance. Tonight he had attempted to mold himself into a rather nice purple suit. It didn't quite work with his... physique. If it weren't for the long shock of yellow hair, he rather looked like an eggplant.

"I've almost got a million neopoints. Can't this wait?"

"Sorry, darling." He replied in a voice as smooth as honey as he took me by the arm and led me away from the computer. I looked back.

"Christopher..." I muttered, allowing him to pull me away. "Someone's bidding on my lot, I just know it..."

He just smiled and nodded as he led my slightly rumpled self into a room down the hall, where the council waited. I sighed and smoothed down my hair, heading for my place at the head of the card table. Chris, the Toreador primogen and eggplant in residence, sat across from me. To my right and left sat the Malkavian primogen, my childe Ruth and the Brujah primogen we all lovingly called "Birdie"; also to my left was the child-like primogen of Ventrue, Danelle. My whole council.

"Ok, ok. What business is there for tonight?" I asked.

There was a general shrug from the four before me. Is there ever business in this city? Sometimes we even had to make it up ourselves if we wanted to seem productive. This, it seemed, was one of those nights: we hadn't been productive in a very long time.

"O...k..." I glanced at them "We, uh..."

"There was something," Ruth interjected, "He showed up last night."

We watched her with interest, begging that she go on.

"His name is Aaron," She continued, "Aaron...something... he says he's Kiwi's friend."

I smiled at the mention of Kiwi, my favorite grandchilde and poor Ruth's love interest for the past 30 years. He went off some time ago to find himself. The last we'd heard of him, he was heading towards a small penninsula near Russia. What was it called again? Ah, Kamchacta... The Russian Wang.

"Where is he now?" Birdie asked with more than a little curiosity. Ruth looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. "Damn it, Ruth!"

I grunted gently, a noise which reminded him of my disposition when anger and frustration made there way in. I lifted my eyes to my childe. "Ruth. Where did you last see him?"

"I saw him..." Her brow furrowed with frustration. "He was... He was..."

"He was...?"

"Oh, he was at the library."

"We're already at the library. What part was he in?"

"Oh! I remember... I'll go get him... old friends and all..." Ruth excused herself and hurried from the room to locate our visitor.

"I need to feed my Gelert..." I mused, waving over one of the ghouls standing handily by the door. "Get on my computer and feed Chelisa1292 the ghostkersandwich. Use the blue fuzzle and play with her... but not too much or the fuzzle might break. Just keep her happy." The ghoul nodded and left.

"Aeslehc," Dani said, "Don't you think you take the game a little too---"

"It's not just a game. It's a complex society based on the happiness of a stationary cartoon animal, on trading and working for points to buy toys, food, and books to keep their senses sharp, their hunger quelled. It's...," I clenched my fist and shook it in the air to make my point firm, "A power trip of immense proportions."

"Aes?" It was Ruth coming back. "I found him"

"Bring him in, hun."

She ushered in a stocky, be-leathered fellow with short black hair. He gave a wane smile and folded his arms as he looked at us. When he didn't bow and introduce himself, Christopher began to speak, his lip lifted in distaste...

"No, Chris. It's fine. Hello, again Aaron." I grinned. It was hard to forget him from the old days when Kiwi was still around. Those two were...quite a pair. Aaron, one of the strangest Brujah I had come to know, sat on a corner of the table and grinned right back at me. Ruth took her seat again, looking terribly apprehensive.

"He says there's a problem," She began.

"I can tell this my own damn self, Ruth." He muttered, his voice the same Okie drawl it had always been.  
"Get on with it." Christopher snapped.

"Jeeze, bite a man's head off. Alright, Prince and company...Kyle...Er...I mean, Kiwi's going to be dead in a matter of nights."

"What?" Ruth buried her face in her hands. "Nonononononononono..."

"You sure?" Dani asked.

"Duh." Birdie replied, "If he weren't sure, d'ya think he'd tell us?"

"Yes," Aaron said firmly, "I'm sure. Have you ever seen the play 'Up the Down Staircase'?" All but Dani nodded slowly. "Well, people don't know that it was based on real facts. Now, the man who the character Paul Barringer was based upon went insane after he couldn't publish his novel about a nuclear physicist marooned on Kamchacta..."

"Bull shit," Dani smirked, shaking her head.

"Shut up before I pimp smack you," Aaron grumbled, "Anyway. He went insane and, because of the research he had to do about nuclear physics... he knew a few things, you know? He went to Kamchacta and built a lab. He's been conducting experiments there."

"What does this have to do with Kyle!" Ruth growled.

"Kiwi." Chris said softly.

"He went poking around in the midst of trying to find himself and got caught by Barringer... or whatever his real name is. Staked and taken in for experimentation. I really don't think he'll last long, paralyzed like that. I don't even know if he's being fed. I can't get in on my own to help him, so I came to you guys. Will you help?"

I cast a long glance at Ruth and then nodded, "Of course, we'll help. What do you need?"

Later, after Aaron explained to us the task at hand and what it would require, the council met in the main yard of the library: a courtyard full of weeds and growth with a kitschy stone fountain located in the middle.

"Alright. Birdie, Ruth... I'm sending the two of you to Kamchacta with Aaron."

"What? Why aren't you coming, Aeslehc?" Ruth asked.

"Things have to be maintained here." I replied, shrugging. "It's my duty. You know... In case the Sabbat decides we're a major strategic point in the Jyhad."

My council looked at me flatly for a long moment and went back on discussing the journey amongst themselves.  
"I don't think Birdie should go, he'll kill someone---"

"No, no, Ruth shouldn't go, she's too emotionally attached---"

"Neither of them should go. I, for one---"

I put a hand on my hip and stared at them.

"Ahem?"

".---and make a mess of it, too"

"---what if he gets killed? She'll become uncontrollable."

"---don't believe either of them are stable enough."

"AHEM!"

"Hey! I am NOT that violent—"

"I'm not unstable. I just don't—"

"AHEM...Prince? High office? Needs respect and has a serious complex that you people are only aiding to make worse?"

"---most of the time!"

"---take things very well."

"Your HEADS on PIKES and your BODIES turning to ASH!"

They slowly ceased their talking and turned to look at me.

"Thanks for the consideration, guys. I appreciate it. Really. Ok, look. I'm sending you two... Birdie, as his cousin and Ruth as the closest person to him other than Aaron. The rest of us have to stay here to at least keep up appearances. Anything can go wrong..."

"Paranoid..." Christopher muttered just before the back of his head ran into five of my fingers. "Heeeey..."

"Yes, yes... your hair... got it. Now SHUT UP when I'm trying to speak or I really WILL kill all of you and go after Kiwi myself!"

"Ok, ok... guys, let's give her some attention," Dani said, her hands outstretched in a gesture of peace. I half expected her to exclaim 'Hear me, my Jewish people!'

I sighed, "Alright. Birdie and Ruth, go find Aaron and stay with him. Ask him to fill you in on anything he hasn't already mentioned. Chris, Dani—the two of you and I are going to keep things running smoothly here."


	2. Visitor?

CHAPTER TWO: Visitors  
  
Part One, as told by Dani  
  
"Alright. Birdie and Ruth, go find Aaron and stay with him. Ask him to fill you in on anything he hasn't already mentioned. Chris, Dani—the two of you and I are going to keep things running smoothly here."  
  
I had no idea that "to keep things running smoothly" meant that the Torrie and I did all the work while she, our darling Prince, locked herself away to play that idiotic Neo-game.  
  
"I can't do a thing, Danelle," Christopher told me, "She's a woman who spurns demands made towards her. It would prove a grave travesty to have her slighted should we press that she abandon her world of fancy."  
  
"I've played Neopets," I said, "It's not that fancy. She has a serious problem."  
  
"Don't they all?" He said, mournfully as he turned to go into the room he shared with the prince during the times that going home for the day was simply impossible. "Don't they all...."  
  
The door closed and I found myself standing in the hallway alone once again. Birdie and Ruth had long since left with Aaron on the private plane he had flown in coming down here. I wondered precisely where they would be, where Kamchacta was, who this madman writer could possibly be and why would he take Kyle as he did? Kiwi... a ridiculous name for a man. Although, something in my mind told me I hadn't thought as such so many years ago. So many, many years ago....  
  
"I did the dumbest thing ...." "What'cha do, Kiwi?" "I had to do the first stupid thing on New Year's...."  
  
His voice, full of life and humor. I smiled as I remembered, and it occurred to me that it was no wonder Ruth loved him the way she did.  
  
I slipped through the darkened corridor, my hands clasped at the small of my back, leaving towards my temporary room in Elysium. My memories from years long passed came as strong and as lucid as yesterday's events. A smile crossed my face as I entered my darkened room, closing the door behind me. There was something about "Kiwi" that one couldn't help but adore. He had brilliance, a youthful quality that I knew he would have throughout his nights on this Earth. He could become a Methuselah, a dreaded Ancient... and be no different from the handsome young man we'd all come to love.  
  
My room was the same as it had always been: Dark. Blackout curtains lined the windows, bolted against the wall for extra protection. The rug was thick and the walls were plain—Our Malkavian prince didn't care much for appearances, her personal look was evidence enough for that. The rooms were another testimony. The city had no Keeper of Elysium per se, so Aeslehc kept it herself. It didn't matter too much to me; the place did its job well enough. Not that we ever had much to do here in the first place, though.  
  
I sat down at my desk, a large mahogany writing table and looked through some messages that had been left for me by one of the ghouls. When the papers were pushed out of the way, my image stared up at me from the covered surface of the desk. I looked like Hell, frankly. My hair had ceased to look combed and needed to be dyed again. Brown strands peeked out where the black dye had begun to fade away. I sighed and put the next stack of notes and messages in front of me, rifling through them until I came across one that particularly caught my interest.  
  
"Oh no..."  
  
I grabbed the paper and ran from my room.  
  
PART TWO: AS TOLD BY CHRISTOPHER  
  
The room was dark and still, each article of furniture symmetric, eclectic, round—placed around the room in a pattern which catered particularly for an aesthetically pleasing effect. With the press of a button, music filtered in through keenly placed speakers, producing a sound of realism. The beat of the song could be felt in one's chest, the impression of a heartbeat. I feigned a deep sigh and turned to a mirror, one of many placed around the room, to verify the condition of my hair. A piece had come lose from the gel. Such a pity. I mournfully shook my head and went into the second room of the office, the place with the bed and vanity. At the vanity, I sat and pulled forth an army of assorted hair brushes, gels, and combs. This should do...  
  
"Christopher!"  
  
I pulled my hair down from the ponytail, allowing it to cascade forth around my broad, impressive shoulders. I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment. God was I beautiful... A shiver went through my spine as I began brushing out the tender, thick strands of gold, working the hair with a lover's touch and not daring to break a single strand.  
  
"Chris! Open the door!"  
  
God intentionally broke the mold so many years ago when he and his angels created me....  
  
"Christopher Alexander K..."  
  
"Don't say it!!"....I sighed and rose from the vanity, my hair perfect once more. With a flourish, I opened my door to greet young Ms. Dani as she stood there, a peculiar pout on her face and a paper in her hand. "Please come in."  
  
"Thank you, Chris." She stepped in, giving me an irritated expression as she shoved the note in my face. "Read this."  
  
I pulled a pair of expensive silver glasses from my breast pocket, balancing them upon my nose as I took the paper and did as was commanded.  
  
"Oh no..." I whispered and lifted my gaze back to her. "We need to get our prince looking presentable."  
  
"Yes. Ourselves as well."  
  
It seemed that we were due for a visit from a neighboring prince. The prince and primogen of Oklahoma City had long wanted to annex us under their control, but always we had proven ourselves self-sufficient enough to not warrant that particular act. The larger city hadn't bothered us in decades; one had to wonder what was on the prince's mind.  
  
"Tomorrow night, you find her something decent to wear; I'll pass the news onto her and unplug that damned computer of her's."  
  
Dani nodded and stepped back out, letting the door close and leaving me alone again.  
  
With a distraught sigh, I checked the time. An hour until sunrise. There wouldn't be enough time to tell her tonight, or perhaps... there might be. If she left her game to join me in bed, rather than falling asleep at the computer, there would be. But of course, we could never count on that. Checking the time again, I left into the hall and moved towards Aeslehc's little "cave".  
  
The door was closed, as always, and a tiny blue light glowed from beneath it. I half smiled and knocked quietly on her door.  
  
"My love, may I see you?"  
  
She was a moment before replying, "What is it, Christopher?"  
  
"We're to expect a visitor tomorrow night. May I come in?"  
  
"Yes, come on in."  
  
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.  
  
"Prince England is coming."  
  
She practically dropped the mouse and stared at me as she leapt up from her chair. Her body responded in kind, each attribute rising as she rose and falling back in place rhythmically. I found myself transfixed.  
  
"Christopher?"  
  
"Pardon?" I jerked my gaze back to her glaring brown eyes. Deep, sultry, glaring brown eyes...Eyes that could hold and bend even the most rigid of men....  
  
"Christopher!"  
  
I shook my head, "Yes, darling?"  
  
She sighed, "When is he coming?"  
  
"Tomorrow night"  
  
"That doesn't give us much time." Her tone was worried, distraught, lost, soulful... I sighed deeply as I listened to her speak, watched her lips as she formed each word. "But we'll manage, I suppose. We haven't been assimilated into OKC yet."  
  
I nodded and glanced at the computer, then back to her. She seemed elsewhere, her attentions and interests focused on the future. Her game wasn't a thought upon her brain—  
  
"Go on to bed." She said, sitting back down, "I need to make 2 million neopoints before morning."  
  
I closed my eyes and nodded, leaving my love to sit, picturesque in the glow of her diabolical obsession. 


	3. Leaving the Airport

Chapter 3  
  
At the airport in Kamchacta, as told by Ruth:  
  
"I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi. I want Kiwi!"  
  
"Ruth, give it a rest!"  
  
Give it a rest, I thought, give it a rest? How does he expect me to....How does...How....My brain was running a thousand miles per minute, I had a headache. Honestly. I mean... honestly....  
  
"Ruth! Calm down. People are starting to stare."  
  
Aaron and Birdie each grabbed one of my arms and dragged me out of the airport to the rental car that was waiting for us.  
  
"But he's...he's...but..." The shoved me into the backseat where I quickly curled up, my arms crossed over my chest and my knees touching my elbows. The two men shook their heads and got up front—Aaron driving and Birdie a passenger. We drove out from the small, rural airport, the people forgetting us as soon as we had gone. I could feel my Kiwi. I could feel him on the continent, on this peninsula. Me and him had a bond that even other Malkavians—already bonded together by the network—didn't have such a firm connection. Except that I couldn't feel him moving or tell where he was this time. He didn't know where he was and he couldn't move.  
  
"Kiwi!!"  
  
"For God's sake...," Birdie turned around to look at me, his eyes narrowing and his hair falling around his face. Did he have black hair? Yes, he must have. Never combed it... never....Kiwi's hair was always short, always sculpted. Something a Tzimisce would have been proud of if it'd been something other than hair. Oh how I missed my Kiwi. I closed my eyes and tried to find him. 'Kiwi? Kiwi?! Where are you?'  
  
I didn't get a response. Could he hear me?  
  
"Ruth, what's wrong?"  
  
"Kiwi's not answering..." I clinched my eyes shut and forced myself to concentrate. 'Kiwi' The thought came what seemed like a year later, as we were passing out of the city. It had probably been all but 10 minutes since I had called him and the words were as faint and weak as nothing I'd ever hear before.  
  
'Roo.'  
  
"Kiwi!" I screamed aloud, starting Aaron and Birdie.  
  
'Roo, you're.... here?'  
  
I could feel him stronger, then, could see his mind. His vision was red; he was slipping quickly into an immobile frenzy. I immediately felt sorry for the first person who freed him. I could see a room—gray and brown. Splotchy, damp, cold. Metal. Strong metal gripping his hands, digging into the flesh. Metal easily ripped apart, but he was far too weak. Beyond that, he was paralyzed. From the corner of his eye I saw movement. Broken legged, weak, lying on the floor was a familiar man. Kiwi's ghoul? The Spaniard? I wondered why he was there....  
  
'Damien... will die...if...'  
  
'Damien? The Spaniard? Why will he die? Why is he there? Why are you there? What happened, where are you?'  
  
"Ruth, Ruth!? What's going on?" Aaron... or maybe Birdie screamed at me.  
  
'Tell Aaron....hello...'  
  
'Yes, Kiwi. But, where are you?'  
  
'Dunno. You'll...find me....'  
  
'You sound awfully confident.'  
  
'The spy...will lead the way....'  
  
'Spy?'  
  
'Mmhmm. Aeslehc is having trouble.... Her enemies have sent their toy out to watch you...'  
  
'Where?'  
  
I sat up, gripping the leather seat and looking out through the dark tinted window.  
  
"What is it, Ruth?" Aaron asked.  
  
"We're being spied on." 'Where is it, Kiwi?'  
  
'Beh—'  
  
Darkness. 'Kiwi?! Kiwi!?'  
  
"KIWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"  
  
Part ONE continues: Story momentarily taken over by Birdie.  
  
"Fuck, she's losing it! Pull the damn car over."  
  
I spun around in my seat as the back window shattered and Ruth was loose.  
  
"Aw Hell." Aaron muttered, bringing the car to a halt at the side of the road. "Now what do we do?"  
  
"Hope she doesn't kill anybody important?"  
  
"Or drive them insane." Aaron sighed and got out. I did the same and leaned against the roof, watching Ruth as she tore into some poor bystander. "Dammit, she's ripping apart the natives..."  
  
"Open the trunk." I said, walking around to the back of the car. Aaron reached in and popped it open. Inside was a general assortment of firearms.  
  
"Goddamn, Bird, are you preppin' for WWIII?"  
  
"No," I replied calmly, loading the magazine. "I left that arsenal at home. This is just my 'Gang Warfare' arsenal."  
  
"Right...So how do you plan to get her back here?"  
  
"Shoot her in the legs."  
  
"That works."  
  
Part TWO: Once again, as told by Ruth  
  
Red. Blood. Screeeeeeams.... Softness. Kiwi's screams. I hear him screaming. He's in the back of my mind, begging me to stop. But I know it's not really him. It's this person under me as I tell them a story...  
  
BANG. Something tore into my thigh; I felt a vague burning sensation. Who was shooting at me? Police? I saw lights. Were those lights that I saw?  
  
"Come on, Ruth, come back to us!"  
  
Something else gave way under my hands—the ribcage of the man I was pressing against. I felt the gore creep around my fingers as I slowly fought with myself.  
  
"I think she's---Oh shit!"  
  
More gunshots? As I came back to reality, the horrible pain in my thigh was evident. In fact, it wasn't just in my thigh anymore. It was in my arms, my back, my legs...I felt the skin slowly crawling back together like tiny bugs, pushing out the bullets. I shuddered and blocked the weirdness from my mind as I sat up. Aaron and Birdie ran past me, grabbing my arms and pulling me to my feet as they ran, dragging me with them. We were soon back in the car, leaving the bloody city behind us. I smiled at them.  
  
"I think I'm better now."  
  
"I'm glad," Aaron replied, gravely, looking back and eyeing my blood-soaked clothes, my formerly blonde hair. "Did you get any in your mouth?"  
  
"Yeah." I grinned sheepishly, "I guess I made a little mess."  
  
".....Oh yeah, just a little mess...." Birdie snorted and folded his arms.  
  
"So, are we on our way?" I asked.  
  
"Yes," Aaron said. He glanced in the mirror at something I didn't notice, "And so is our friend..."  
  
(*gasp* Who is spying on our heroes in Kamchacta? Will they get to Kiwi before something bad happens? Has something bad already happened? Dun DUN DUUUUUN... stay tuned.) 


	4. A Dream of Grundos

Chapter Four: Prince Gary England Pays a Visit, as told by Aeslehc  
  
Chelisa1292 was doing very well. She was a happy Gelert—well fed and brilliant. A genius among her species. Not only that, but she was the most beautiful I had ever seen. Just how many beauty contests had this darling Halloween Gelert won for herself and her master? Too many to be counted. I smiled proudly at her as she bounded towards me, her little cape billowing in the wind. With a mighty tackle, she dropped me to the ground and began littering my face with kisses from her long, sloppy tongue. I laughed and patted her head, muttering oaths as well as praise. She barked joyously and....  
  
And a shadow covered all the land....  
  
Chelisa stopped and stared at something I couldn't see. After that, she turned tail and fled.  
  
"Chelisa!" I screamed, jumping to my feet and spinning to face this unknown danger. A horrible scream caught in my throat.  
  
Faerie Grundos! Billions of them, descending like a plague in Egypt. I turned, in the fashion of my Gelert, and ran. I ran and ran and ran. I couldn't run fast enough! I couldn't give myself that superhuman burst of speed with Celerity.... One by one, the Faerie Grundos attacked me. Their smiling faces, their grinning teeth, their outstretched claws... they dug into my skin and tickled obscenely beneath the surface. I fell. Tears streamed down my face, burning angrily.  
  
"Stop, Stop!" I put my arms over my face.  
  
"Aeslehc. Aeslehc." The Grundos called to me in haunting voices.  
  
"No! NO! God, NO!"  
  
"Open your eyes, Aeslehc."  
  
I did so. There, leaning over me, was a handsome white Aisha. I blinked twice before I recognized who it was. It wasn't an Aisha at all...  
  
"Christopher?" I asked in astonishment, "What are you doing in Neopia?"  
  
"We're not in Neopia, Aes." He sighed and hauled me up. I looked around for a moment and put a hand to my temple. We were in my computer room again. My screensaver had frozen in the middle of the day sometime, apparently. The happy little Kikos weren't playing pong anymore. They were at a standstill on the screen. I shook my head.  
  
"What time is it, Chris?"  
  
"Sun went down half an hour ago." He replied, tucking my arm into his. "Come on, you need to get dressed. Prince England will be here at Midnight."  
  
"Hell. Alright." I closed my eyes and followed him out and down the hall to our temporary room, where Dani was standing with one of my formal dresses in her arms. She herself had already gotten dressed—her petite little body was placed inside a short, leather tube of a burgundy color. It seemed the only thing holding it to her form was the attached collar around her neck. I was worried for a moment as my eyes traveled to –my- dress. Quite frankly... a dress like hers wouldn't do well on my body's plus- sized disposition. Luckily, however, she had thought of this and had selected a slimming white dress with sparkles and vertical stripes. I took it from her as it was offered to me. It sparkled in my arms... like the wings of the faerie Grundos. For a moment, I stared at it, entranced, afraid. I shut my eyes for a moment and looked back to Dani and Chris, drawing myself up just a bit. "I'm going to go put this on and....brush my hair. The two of you make sure that this place looks presentable."  
  
"Yes, my Prince." They replied at once. I turned to go into the adjacent room.  
  
Part Two: As told by Dani  
  
We watched her as her eyes grew distant and exchanged a glance. However, we didn't say anything. It was after she left the room that Christopher spoke.  
  
"What do you suppose she was thinking about just then?"  
  
"It's hard to say," I replied, watching the door. She –is- a Malkavian."  
  
Chris nodded, "Yes. That she is. But she's always been a little unpredictable, hasn't she?"  
  
"Mmhmm. Just a b—"There was a phone ringing. I paused and listened intently as one of the ghouls across the hall answered it. After the initial greeting, there was a long silence and then a meek knock on the door. I opened it to allow the ghoul to hesitantly shuffle in.  
  
"Miss Dani?" She stammered, "There's a phone call for the Prince."  
  
"I'll take it," I replied without thinking. The ghoul shook her head and scratched at her hands. A nervous habit, most likely.  
  
"It...it's the prince of Choctaw. He wishes to speak with...."  
  
"DM?" Christopher grinned, "I'll take it for her, McManus."  
  
McManus nodded and turned, leading Christopher from the room. I merely shook my head and sat down on the end of a chair, my hands folded in my lap as I waited for Aeslehc to return.  
  
It took her an hour to put the silly dress on.  
  
Part 3: As told by Christopher  
  
DM, Lord and Master of Choctaw, was on the other line as I picked up the phone. Like me, the astute and wondrous DM was of the Artiste's Clan. His particular field lay in the realm of Martial Arts. He created masterpieces, true beauty with form and poise.  
  
"Christopher? I wanted to speak with Aeslehc."  
  
"I'm sorry, DM, but she's preparing herself for a visit from Gary England."  
  
DM was silent for a moment before speaking again.  
  
"I see. He isn't going to try another take over, is he?" DM sounded troubled. If Del City was taken, then it would mean a loss of friendly neighbors for the city of Choctaw. Choctaw didn't have many friendly neighbors.  
  
"We don't know what he wants," I replied, drumming my fingers on the soft plastic of the cheap telephone. "We received notice only yesterday that he would be here."  
  
"Hm. Strange. Will you need help?"  
  
"We might," I admitted.  
  
"Let us know. I'll call back when the heat dies down. And Chris?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Good luck."  
  
"Thanks, DM." We hung up.  
  
When I returned to my darling's dressing room, she had already emerged in the lovely white dress. It reminded me of the first formal gown I had ever seen her wear. It reminded me of the way she moved in it... the way she danced.... The music they played....It had all been so—  
  
"What do you think?" She asked blandly. My love disliked dressing up. I watched her sit at the vanity and brush out her hair. When it was washed, those long, curly locks were as fiery and as bright as a new copper penny in the brilliant, deadly sun. Hair which reflected her underlying nature.... Once again, I found myself transfixed. The shine of the hair in the light of the desk lamp itself was enough to drive a man mad.  
  
"I think you look good," Dani said, nodding softly. "Hurry and put your shoes on, Aes, Prince England's bound to be here anytime."  
  
I looked at my Rolex and nodded in agreement. It was five before midnight. Aeslehc closed her eyes and rose from the vanity, her hair curling up just past her shoulders now, rather than being a rat's nest so tangled that it didn't look any longer than chin-length. She drew herself up and flashed open her eyes with a furious bravado. Somewhere, someone was knocking on a door.  
  
"Let's do this, then." She said firmly  
  
Part 4: Once more as told by Aeslehc  
  
"Let's do this, then."  
  
I hoped against hope that my primogen were buying this. What could be worse than a weak leader? They had to have confidence in me, even if I had none in myself. I knew... oh how I knew... the Grundo would come for me. I knew they would come. Gary England was merely a manifestation of Grundo. Grundo. Grundo. GRUNDO! Damn you, Neopets! How could you release an army of Grundo upon me like this! I twitched.  
  
"Aes, you alright?" Christopher whispered gently. I nodded wordlessly as we left through the corridor to the council chamber where I would sit and await the beast of OKC. Grundo... All Grundos... Dark blue Grundos with wings and sparkles like the night...Gary England was their slave...  
  
I sat down, once more, at the head of the card table. We could have bought a bigger one... but we were content with what we had. This card table. This symbol of my power.... Something the Grundos wanted. They wanted to take it back to their Space Station in the sky....  
  
"What are you talking about, Aeslehc?" Dani whispered to me, sharply. Had I been speaking?  
  
"The Grundos" I whispered.  
  
"Dammit, she's in her own world." Christopher sighed, exchanging a glance with Dani. "What do we do now?"  
  
Dani rose and came to stand beside me.  
  
"Aeslehc—my Prince? Do you trust me?" "Uh..." I blinked. What was she asking me? Grundo. Grundo. Grundo.  
  
"Aeslehc..."  
  
Grundo...  
  
"Aeslehc??"  
  
Grundo.  
  
"Do you trust me!?"  
  
"Gr...yes...un...yes. Yes. I trust you, Dani."  
  
"Good. Get up. Chris, sit there."  
  
"Prince Aeslehc?" It was one of the ghouls. "Prince England is here."  
  
I rose. Dani sat me down in Christopher's place as he rose to take mine. I watched them, frowning.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
They'd gotten to her. They'd gotten to her. They'd---  
  
"This is just temporary. Chris is going to be the acting prince."  
  
"What?" He blinked wildly, coming to his feet. "No, why can't you—"  
  
"Because." She replied shortly, "Prince England likes you, Christopher."  
  
"Does...he?" He sat back down, "I'd have thought he preferred you. After all, he is a Ventrue...."  
  
"What can I say?" She replied, taking her seat and turning to the ghoul. "Bring him."  
  
Grundo. Grundogrundogrundogrundo....I gritted my teeth and clinched my fists. He was coming. The Grundo Slave. Prince Gary England, GRUNDO SLAVE!!  
  
(To be continued....) 


	5. Heads will Roll: This chapter rated R!

Chapter 5 (Yes, FINALLY! : D) Part One: Stalked by a Familiar Face, as told by Birdie.  
  
"So, are we on our way?" Ruth asked.  
  
"Yes," Aaron replied, "And so is our friend..."  
  
I craned my neck around to see over the seat and behind Ruth, spending a little blood to give myself better eyes. So it was true, there was indeed somebody following us... in a black nondescript car, no less. How original. I sat back and looked at Aaron.  
  
"It's your turn to solve a problem, I'm out of ideas."  
  
Aaron paused and glanced in the rearview mirror, formulating something.  
  
"Hey, Bird—you remember a while back when the archons were giving us Hell?"  
  
I blinked slowly, but nodded with not a little suspicion, "Yes...I remember that...."  
  
"Good." There was a gas station coming up on the left, into which Aaron slowly turned. "Watch him, Bird."  
  
I nodded and kept an eye out, "He's driving past... stopping about a mile down the road."  
  
Aaron nodded, "Thanks, Bird." He parked the car, "Everybody out."  
  
"What are we doing?" Ruth asked as she stepped out, letting her door slam.  
  
"Ruth, you're going to walk down the center of the road, towards the car. Make for damn certain that he's got your attention. Bird and me'll be----"  
  
His voice trailed off into whispers to Ruth, but that was fine. I'd been through this drill before, a few decades back—when I didn't have good standing in the Camarilla.  
  
It passed just like it had back then. There was a diversion in the middle of the road and an ambush on either side. Luckily for us, there was a lot of brush and cover so not much blood needed to be wasted on Obfuscating ourselves. I hadn't fed since the airport, anyway....  
  
The car came closer and closer into my view—I was on the far side, across the street. Aaron would do the ambushing and I had to make sure that our prey didn't get away from us. There was music playing—old music, stuff from the 1990's. I gagged lightly as I realized that it was Brittney Spears. Goddamn, this guy had to be gay. I shook my head at this thought and after a moment, recognized Aaron's signal to get ready—a gentle whistle that couldn't be heard from the inside of the car. Ruth was in her position, wandering past. The damn distraction was a success—the fucker in the car lifted his head in confusion and craned his neck back to see the gas station, evidently looking for the two of us. Aaron made his move, leaping forward and wrenching open the passenger side. The spy freaked out and frantically opened his door, falling backwards into the worn-asphalt of the street. I was on him in a matter of seconds, preventing his escape with a solid kick in the gonads. Aaron and Ruth leaned over the quivering form as he curled into the fetal position.  
  
"What the fuck!" Ruth exclaimed, "That's Anthony..."  
  
Anthony Farquad: Resident fucker of Del City for a hundred years. Not even a vampire—a worthless dhampir in need of much death. The Camarilla had been after him for decades. But, then... who was he a spy for?  
  
Aaron knelt down and grabbed a fistful of filthy blonde hair, wrenching his head back to expose the neck underneath.  
  
"Talk." He said, shortly.  
  
Anthony trembled, "I'll tell my father, and then—"  
  
"Then what?" Ruth said shortly, "We'll just let your name slip to the archons and justicars.... I hear you're a favorite of theirs."  
  
He took a single deep breath and began spilling –everything-, the damn coward.  
  
"Prince England promised to spare my life if I followed you here. I'm supposed to bring back proof that all of you are incompetent, and...also... he wanted me to..." There was an uneasy glance at Ruth, "Secure your failure."  
  
"WHAT?!!"  
  
"Ruth, calm down, dammit! We're handling this." Aaron smacked Anthony roughly for... well, no real reason that I could see other than the fact that he was a fucker.  
  
The creepy little dhampir began to cry, attempting to curl up even though Aaron had a tight hold on his hair. "Please don't kill me—let me live... let me live and I'll make sure you don't..."  
  
His speech was cut off by Aaron's free hand tightening around his throat. "What do you guys say we do with him?"  
  
"Kill him," I said, "He'd be like fucking Golem. It would get annoying."  
  
"KILL THE BASTARD," Ruth growled.  
  
"That's a consensus, then. Sorry...well, not really." Aaron grinned nastily and dropped Anthony, rising and looking back at us for a moment before kicking him in the face... at. Full. Force. His nose immediately shot off to one side in a spray of blood, teeth falling forward as he made rough spitting noises. He began to beg and plead for mercy, but there was no hearing it. Aaron began to wail down on him in a barrage of fists, even as Anthony attempted to come to his feet. At one point, his fist went so hard into the chest that the ribs broke with sickening sounds.... Ruth and I took a couple of steps back, but watched with desensitized interest. There was blood everywhere...and STILL the fucker tried to get up. Aaron, in his flurry of frustration, growled darkly and grasped the sides of Anthony's swollen head...and TUGGED.... There was a scream, a pop...cracking... ripping... and after a long, painful moment in which even –we- had to cringe, the head came loose in his hands and he threw it down the street.  
  
Aaron watched it thoughtfully before looking back at us, "Hungry?"  
  
Part Two: Next Dilemma, as told by Ruth  
  
Birdie stepped forward to give himself a pick-me-up from the gushing corpse of Anthony. I could only smirk and turn back towards the gas station to wait for them in the car. It was amazing that nobody heard the commotion in the street... after all, a man had just had his head ripped off. His HEAD. Ripped OFF. Was it only just now dawning on me? I didn't know it was possible to rip a man's head off. Sure, you can cut it off—blades and the like... but with the ripping? God. I shook my head and looked up again as I stepped into the gravely driveway of the gas station. Aaron had parked the car over...no, it was there...or was it...  
  
The car was gone.  
  
"AAAAARON!" I shrieked, turning on my heel, "Someone fucking stole the fucking godfuckingdamn CAR!"  
  
-----To be continued--- 


	6. The Switch Revised!

(I fixed it up. I was getting annoyed with my typos. I also made it a bit more prosy for the benefit of my muse. YOU'D BETTER APPRICIATE THIS, DANELLE!)  
  
Chapter Six: The Switch As told by Christopher  
  
"This is just temporary. Chris is going to be the acting prince."  
  
The fuck?  
  
"What?" I blinked wildly, coming to my feet in one fluid motion. "No, why can't you—"  
  
"Because." She replied shortly, "Prince England likes you, Christopher."  
  
"Does...he?" I sat back down, my mouth agape. This just couldn't be! And yet, was I really all that surprised? Truly, I was a beauty to behold and a dream to speak to, so why wouldn't the esteemed Prince of Oklahoma City adore me?, "I'd have thought he preferred you. After all, he is a Ventrue...."  
  
"What can I say?" She replied, taking her seat and turning to the ghoul. "Bring him."  
  
The ghoul bowed out. I looked at Dani incredulously.  
  
"Listen, Danelle, I can't do this! I am but a simple bard! These politicalities pain my sensitive soul so...." And it was too terribly true. It was the bane of my existence even being the Toreador Primogen, but... somebody had to do it. And why not me? Surely, as the most charismatic elder of my clan in this Godforsaken city....  
  
"Dani..." It was my darling lost soul, my sweet red haired bedlamite slowly coming from her trance. Her eyes were spinning in pools of dark mud, lost and without reason.  
  
"Just relax, my prince. He'll be gone soon enough," she replied.  
  
"Let's hope so." I said, shortly, shifting uneasily in the chair. I looked down at it. Simple, yet elegant, and forever a shiny thing.... Partially to impress guests, but mostly because she really, really liked shiny things.  
  
There was a knock at the door again and the very same ghoul returned, a tall, thin man behind her. He was handsome and rigid, with hair longer even than mine and blacker than the darkest night. Beauty he might possess, but he could not stand against my own. Dani and I both rose. After a moment, so did Aeslehc.  
  
"I'm sorry," I said, "We were expecting Prince England from Oklahoma City."  
  
"Who are you?" Danelle demanded.  
  
The dark-haired stranger bowed and removed a pair of mirrored sunglasses from sharp, sharp eyes. "My name is Kelly Ogle, of clan Brujah."  
  
And that is why the man's beauty could never stand to mine. Brujah simply aren't an elegant clan.  
  
"....just great." I barely heard Danelle mutter.  
  
"I'm his Seneschal. I was sent here," he continued, "in the place of Prince England as a diplomatic pawn."  
  
"At least he knows his place," Dani whispered to me as she moved towards him, all smiles and Presence. He seemed... enthralled with her, but such was hard to tell whether it was natural or enforced by her discipline. She extended a slender hand to him, her smile not betraying the contempt she no doubt felt for the pawn of Gary England. His thin, pale lips placed a cold kiss upon the backs of her knuckles before the hand was taken back again. Formalities. Ever the formalities!  
  
"Please, sit down, Mr. Ogle. I am Danelle, the Ventrue Primogen and Seneschal for the prince..."  
  
"And...where is she?" He asked as he sat down, his eyes falling upon me.  
  
Aeslehc twitched a bit and slid somewhere under the table. I swore that she was chanting "Grundo...he is the Grundo" beneath her breath.  
  
Damn you, Neopets.  
  
"She has business to attend to as well," Dani replied, "She and I selected a temporary replacement. This is her lover, and the Toreador primogen: Christopher."  
  
"Ah." He paused, glancing beneath the table, "And who... is this?"  
  
Aeslehc hissed at him.  
  
"She's---," For once, Danelle seemed at a loss, "Why, isn't it obvious, Mr. Ogle?"  
  
"No?" He lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Why, she's—,"  
  
"A prophet."  
  
"Yes, a prophet." She blinked and looked at me, "What?"  
  
"You see her under the table there, Kelly darling? She is sensing the perceptive impulses from the soles of our feet. To her, we make music in the vibrations that remain after we walk. It's....beautiful."  
  
Aeslehc scooted between my legs and glared up at me, hissing under her breath. "The Hell do you think you're---"  
  
"I'm a Rock God? Oh, darling Prophet, tell me more! Tell me all things that I wish to---YyeeeaaaaahhH!"  
  
She hit me. She hit me in the crotch. My beautiful organ, so perfect—so statuesque... damaged by the brutal fist of the only woman I loved! A light flashed before my eyes as I rolled them back into my skull and clutched myself. Somehow I didn't think I'd ever be able to play the hardcore guitar again....  
  
"Those Malkavians can be pretty feisty," Danelle said, rising as she watched me attempt to not double over from the chair. "Christopher, perhaps we should have a ghoul escort her from the premises?"  
  
"Like Hell we will!" Aeslehc crawled from beneath the table and adjusted herself, apparently out of her debilitating episode for the moment. "You have just been tested, Mr. Ogle." A flawless lie. Even as I clutched my still-throbbing testicles, I felt my love for her cunning mind well up deep in my dead chest... "And he passed. BARELY. Sit down. And Christopher, get out of my chair."  
  
Ogle stood up again and bowed. If he was slighted by the charade, no evidence presented itself on his face, "Prince Aeslehc, I presume."  
  
"Yes." She said with a sigh as I rose and took again my proper place. Relief flooded within me and I was content to for once sit in silence. "What do you want, Mr. Ogle? What does Oklahoma City want with my domain –again-?"  
  
"An alliance."  
  
"An—what?"  
  
"The Sabbat is attempting to retake the central Midwest. We –are- the central Midwest, Prince. As insignificant as we may seem, we—,"  
  
"Oh, no." She said quietly, her tone suddenly far more grave than I had ever heard it. Perhaps she'd had a past run in with the Sabbat.... Oh God! Perhaps she was their prisoner. And she had never spoken of it! Oh, of course! My dear, dear love could not bear the pain and torment of remembering what she had been through! I looked at her with pity and blood tears in my eyes, listening as she put on a strong face and continued with a firm, unwavering tone. "No, I understand perfectly, Mr. Ogle. How long do we have?"  
  
He looked at her, baffled, more than likely, at how easy she was being.  
  
"A month, at most...but we strongly urge action as soon as possible. We will be alerting Choctaw to the problem as well."  
  
"The Sabbat...." Dani murmured under her breath, suddenly and uncharacteristically distracted. Oh what had young Dani endured in her few centuries of existence? The mind could only conjure horrid scenes of destruction and despair. Oh the horror. Oh the angst!  
  
"Give me a week to get my entire council back together. There was a crisis and I had to send two of them away."  
  
"My Prince," Dani began, "Do you find it wise to—,"  
  
"Yes." She replied shortly, rising, "If that's all, Mr. Ogle, you will excuse me."  
  
He rose, bowing. "Of course, Prince."  
  
"Christopher, I'll be at our haven, in the study. Anyone who disturbs me is really gonna get it, understand? And someone see Mr. Ogle out."....and with that, she disappeared through the doorway again.  
  
Part two: As told by Aeslehc  
  
"Son of a bitch." I broke off into a strong run towards my car outside. Pausing, I looked back at the squat, brown bricked library that was the Elysium. Was it worth everything I'd gone through?  
  
And what the Hell was up with Christopher's eyes?  
  
The answers would come in time, I supposed, as I slipped inside the old blue car. My first, you know. The first is always the most faithful.  
  
It began to rain outside as I barreled down Sooner Rd. towards my haven, a four story upper-middle class home that was close enough to a mansion in a burg this small. The homes literally went in order from tiny, poor, lower class huts to the mid-sized blue collar homes, all the way up to where we dwelled. A peculiar line of symmetry. A clap of thunder resounded in my ears as I pulled into the garage, turned on the car alarm, and went inside.  
  
"Mistress." I was greeted with a bow by one of my ghouls. She held a towel out to me, and I shook my head.  
  
"I didn't get wet. Lock all the doors. If Christopher comes home, don't let him go anywhere except for the bedroom or his personal study. But I need silence, so have his guitar hidden."  
  
"Yes mistress." The ghoul bowed again and left me as I went into a room by the curved staircase. Only then, as I locked the door behind me, did the true panic of my situation settle in.  
  
"They're going to find out...." I whispered aloud, my eyes falling upon an ancient relic that I kept over my desk on the wall. An ancient morning star, it was the weapon of a dreaded horror that was supposedly killed a century ago. It was a reminder.... "No." I growled, stalking over to it and tearing it from the wall. As I nearly tossed it to the ground, broke it into a thousand fragments: images bombarded me. Burning, bleeding, screaming, laughing.... I fingered the heavy weapon, feeling it fit so well within my fingers. It had been a long time since I could bring myself to touch it.  
  
And it felt good. 


	7. Still in Kamchacta

Chapter 7: When we last left our Kamchactan Heroes....

The car was gone. In its wake, a spot of oil, tire marks, and a can of tuna.

Tuna?

"Not good. Not good. Not good. Not---"

"Ruth! For Chrissake, put a lid on it, will ya? Damn!" I kicked a hunk of loose asphalt and crossed my arms across my chest. Birdie picked up the can of tuna and stared at it. This did not bode well. "Any ideas anybody?"

"Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not go—"

"....eh...er...Bird? Help me out here, buddy."

Birdie smiled and pointed towards a car that had been left idling by the gas pump.

And so it transpired:

"YOU BASTARDS!" Or the equivalent in the native Kamchactan language. The car's former owner shook his fist at us before attempting to pursue by foot. He threw something that may have been a wrench at us, the heavy metal clunking off of the trunk.

"Son of a bitch! Step on it!"

Birdie shot the car out of the parking lot, leaving the severely pissed-off man behind and putting us back on the road again. We passed what remained of Anthony, as well as the black car he'd been driving.

"....Goddamn, why didn't we just take his car?" I muttered. More to myself than anything...

"Because that would have been too easy," Ruth explained from the backseat. Her tone didn't really sound sarcastic, but with her we could never really tell....

"My away-arsenal was in the trunk of that car," Birdie whined, "Now what are we going to do? No guns!"

"We can settle things without guns, Bird. We –do- have...whassit called...supernatural powers." Ruth smiled as she leaned over the seat to see us better, her elbow digging into our shoulders.

"You're in a better mood, aren't you? ....besides, what good are you if we have to fight somebody? What're you gonna do, crazy them to death?" Birdie snorted and removed the arm which threatened to impale his.

There was silence as she merely sat back and smiled at us with all the mystery and mystique she could muster. It produced a general feeling of...creepy. A hell of a lot of creepy. I glanced to Bird. "Does that answer your question? Besides, she's right."

I think Birdie's world may have crashed around him at that point. He suddenly looked very, very depressed.

"I hate Malkavians."

"Ditto."

"Hey!"

"Pedal to the medal, Bird, I'd like to get somewhere dark before the sun rises."

"I wish Kiwi were here...."

I leaned around the seat to look back at her. "He's around. We'll find him, don't you worry. Eh... did you ever reestablish... y'know..." I tapped the side of my forehead, "Contact?"

The look she gave me was nothing short of pitiful as she slumped down and shook her head. A sad Ruth. Great. I almost wished she was off ripping apart the natives again. A violent Ruth, now that I can deal with. Depressed? Jesus Christ....

I sighed and sat back as Birdie drove us to one of the local motels. It was a dingy place, full of rot and grime, and the room had no shortage of local pests.... But it would do. I, at least, was used to sleeping in shit-holes from time to time.

Ruth whined and flopped back onto the bed. "I don't like it. How're we going to hide from the sun? Eeeee--- COCKROACH!"

I picked up the large bug, watching its legs scurry in the air. Grinning, I wiggled it at her. She flinched away and tossed a pillow at my head.

Ducking, I laughed and continued shaking the squirming little bug at her. "We're going to hole up in the closet. Stuff some blankets and shit under the door so the sun can't get in."

Ruth scrambled away from me and my "little friend" as I tossed the huge insect across the room. She pulled open the closet door and ducked as a swarm of tiny white moths fluttered out. The little space was barely big enough to fit two thin people, much less two thin people and –myself-, being the beefed and sexy stature that I was. She turned and looked back at me.

"It's tiny!"

"Aaron? How do you intend to do this?" Birdie asked as he peered around her and turned to look at me as well.

I pointed to the shelf at the top of the closet. Birdie's eyebrows lifted. "Hell no."

"You've got no choice. There's no other spot here that'll work. Look, you're the smallest of the three of us, you gotta go up there. C'mon, buddy, we've only got a few minutes, need a lift up?" Already I could feel the pull of dawn, my eyelids growing heavy. Ruth yawned and found the corner, curling up at the bottom and leaving very little room for me. "Oh, Hell no missy... you gotta stand."

Birdie glared at me as he climbed up onto the poor excuse of a shelf and shifted himself into what could NOT have been a very comfortable position. I pulled the heavy brown comforter from the bed, dislodging some more insects from their hiding places as I did so. Ruth was now standing in her corner, pouting. I joined her and shut the doors, shrouding us in darkness and further obliterating any hope of light by stuffing the blanket into the crack beneath the door. We really didn't have to worry about anybody coming in during the day. There were no maids that I could see and the lock on the door was a bolt that could only be unlocked from the inside. Our only worry was if someone really really –really- wanted into the room.

Time passed. The day went as usual and we started to wake up.

"Where's Ruth?" Birdie dropped down beside me as I opened my eyes. I shook my head, dusted off a family of roaches, and pushed the already open closet door further so I could step out. She wasn't in the room, either, and the lock on the door was undone. ....Son of a bitch. I glanced at Bird.

"How long's the sun been down?"

He shrugged and glanced at his watch. "Maybe five minutes or so. I guess Ruth's an early riser."

"I guess..." I muttered under my breath as I passed him and went out into the hall. Where the Hell did she go?

Bird and I went out to the "lobby". Really no more than a hallway with an ancient desk and an equally ancient old woman sitting at the desk. She looked up at us from beneath a mass of wrinkles.

"Odoo, oday enickwa."

"Er... in English or German, please?" Birdie said to her, frowning.

"Your girl...de one wiff de blonde....eeeh...hire." The woman struggled, finding what words of English she could remember, "On de raft. She crazy, on de raft around rocking her legs."

I looked at Bird, "You get all that buddy?"

"Raft...the roof?" Birdie furrowed his brow and quietly thanked the woman before we went outside to check for Ruth up on the roof.

Sure enough, the girl was up there, rocking herself back and forth.

"Ruth! Get down here!"

She continued to rock, shaking her head, "Kiwi. Kiwi. Kiwi. Kiwi. Kiwi. Meh Kiwi!"

"Ruth! Your ass on the ground, please!"

Again, she shook her head. I turned to Birdie. "Now what? Any ideas?"

"Shoot her down?"

"....." I paused, scratching my chin thoughtfully, "With what gun?"

Birdie lowered his head, "We don't have any anymore."

"Exactly. What do you say we just go up there and get her?"

He nodded in approval, "That could work."

I jogged back several feet and made a running jump, leaping up onto the roof of the single-story building. Ruth barely glanced my way as she continued her manic chanting. Birdie was up a moment afterwards and together, we grabbed her arms.

"I want Kiwi!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Ruth! Jesus!" We dragged her down, whining and screaming. The old woman had moved to the doorway of the motel, watching us.

"Kiwi? We gont kiwis. Dey tast goot."

Ruth's eyes widened and turned.... a very bad shade of yellow. She broke away from us and rushed at the woman, hitting her full force with her body. Both fell backwards. I started to run after her, but was held back by Birdie.

"It's no use, let it run its course and we'll get the fuck out of here."

And so we watched, helpless and in silence, as the woman's life ended in a spray of blood. I glanced at Birdie. "Breakfast?"

He nodded. "Breakfast."

And breakfast was had.


	8. Marcus

Chapter 8: Someone has a dirty secret.

Part One: As told by Danelle

"So how does it go?"....I half-listened to Bird go on and on about their experience in Kamchacta. The phone was a nuisance in my ear, but it simply had to be done. Aeslehc hadn't come out of her haven in nights, and according to Christopher– she wasn't about to. So I took up the tasks she somehow managed to complete on a night to night basis. How she did it AND managed to obsess over an internet game was beyond my comprehension.

"Ruth keeps freaking out. If it keeps up, can we send her back?"

"No, Birdie. We have our own problems to deal with here." My voice turned hallow, a sprinkling of memories filtering into my thoughts. Burning. Pain. Torture. Marcus. Darkness. Hurting. Blood. Fire. Daemon, for God's sake stop! Stop! St----cut off. Cut them off. A Ventrue has no right bringing up old pain during business hours.

"Dani? Hey DANI... you there?"

I shook myself mentally and nodded to convince myself that I was alright, "Yes, I'm here, Birdie. Is there anything else?"

"There was a spy."

"Oh?"

He cleared his throat, taking a moment of pause. I assumed he was looking around his immediate premises for eavesdroppers. When his voice returned, it was hushed and grave, "His name was Anthony. Apparently he was working for Prince England...."

I listened in rapt attention as Birdie filled me in on every detail of the events of the previous night. I sighed and sat back in my chair, the fine leather creaking against my almost weary body. "That's not the half of our problems, then."

"What?"

"England sent one of his lackeys to request an alliance. The Sabbat is interested in the Midwest."

"Jesus. Is it a setup?" He murmured, "Why would the Sabbat want the Midwest?"

"It's probably a setup, but we can't be too careful. The Midwest is more than a couple of cattle pastures. Oh, and that's not all." There was an uncharacteristic groan from the other line, "Our beloved Prince has been acting strange ever since he informed us of the news. She hasn't come out of her haven for quite some time."

"Is that anything new?"

"According to Christopher and her ghouls, she's been staying in the library. The only room in the house that's not equipped with internet access. Which means that she hasn't been playing Neopets. Which means–"

"That something is very wrong."

"Bingo."

The conversation ended shortly. After saying our goodbyes, I laid the phone back into the cradle and sat back with a weary sigh. Everything was so strange. Why would Prince England send a spy to sabotage our mission in Kamchacta and then send a lackey to attempt peace here the next night?

"It might not be a trap", I told myself, "but we'll still need to watch every step..."

I ran a hand through my hair and rose from the desk, pushing the chair beneath it and lingering, leaning forward and drumming my hands along the wood. I should speak to my contact in the city hall, I thought. The man had maps, information. He probably had a solution to every last one of my problems.

I left the office, catching my coat on the way out and taking time in the mirror on the wall to make sure I looked well enough to be called "presentable" before venturing out. The short journey was one best suited for walking. Fresh air, I supposed, could do no more harm than good, and in any case; the place was barely a hundred feet away and on the same side of the street. The Elysium's door shut behind me as I stepped outside. Straining through a cumulonimbus cloud, the moon left smatterings of light out in the parking lot and on the sidewalk that I was to take.

The pavement was practically part of the street itself. It was narrow and hung low against the curb and was in as poor a state of disrepair as the roads of Del City themselves. Benches lined the side away from the street and were mottled with people. A bum here, an old lady there, a man in a hooded coat presumably on the phone....

"No, you're wrong.," I heard the man say into the receiver. He had a light Italian accent. It was disturbingly familiar, but I shook it off. "Sure, everybody's got bones. Everybody's got chicken bones, but tell me, and be honest, how many people do you know that have squirrel bones?"

Why was that voice so familiar.....? My eyebrows arched as the man turned around to see me.

My blood ran cold. "Oh shit...."

---

Part 2: As told by Christopher

The house was impeccably dark. A pale blue glow illuminated my face, reflecting from my alabaster flesh a sort of iridescent hue. My prince still hadn't emerged and it was anybody's guess as to what she could be doing all locked up inside the library. It was a quandary, a conundrum, a ponderation.... My long fingers struck against the keys of the loathsome electronic contraption, typing "Oklahoma City and regional areas" into a search engine. If my sweet was too wrapped up with herself to explain why in the world the fiends would want to take our area, I would have to derive the information for myself.

Several links presented themselves to be of interest. The basic information I received was thus: Oklahoma City is very nearly the direct center of America. While being a very active Metropolis with several regionally suburban cities (our Del City included) surrounding it, it's still quite low- profile in the eyes of the rest of the nation. I sat back in my chair, hearing the aching creak of the old springs as they supported my weight. My fingertips pressed together in thought. The Sabbat would be able to fan out in all directions if they set up base downtown. It would be a major strategic point in their self-righteous "holy war" and our little hamlet of a burg would be caught up in the wave of terror. Oh the horror! Oh the pain! Oh the angst! I closed my eyes against the onslaught of terrible emotions. I rose slowly from the desk, pushing my chair back beneath it, and shutting down the computer. I would go to the library and speak to Aeslehc. Even in her pitiful, deluded, reclusive state– she had to know!

"My love?" Tentatively, I rapped my knuckles against her door. I was greeted with a loud crash, a wicked shriek, and more than a little swearing. I frowned and knocked again. "Are you alright, my love?!"

She was silent for a moment. I could distinctly smell the intoxicating odor of vitae in the air.

"I'm fine." Her voice was strained, in agony. I could feel it to the bone, my core. She had hurt herself, the poor angel, and all at being startled by my very voice! The notion injured me more deeply than she knew, that I could have caused her of all people....

"Christopher?"

"My darling?"

"What the Hell do you want?"

Part 3: as told by Aeslehc

My poise wasn't so much poise anymore as it was brutal clumsiness. I winced and pulled the heavy spiked ball out of my foot. Like riding a bicycle my ass.

"I wanted to inform you about why the Sabbat would want..."

"I know, Christopher. I know why." The bones popped back into place with a sickening crunch as I concentrated blood into the area involving my toes.

"Oh." His voice was dejected. I rolled my eyes.

"I appreciate your concern, really, but I know best how to handle this." There was a very pregnant pause. And then it was pregnant again. And again. And again.

Hell. Pregnant pause? This pause was positively fertile.

"By secluding yourself, Aeslehc? By avoiding the Elysium? By not talking to those of us who would aid you?" He was impatient. He was always impatient. They all were. Didn't they think I could handle this? I buried the morning star beneath a pile of books and papers and went to the door, pulling it open to peer up at Christopher.

"Look, you can't help with this, really. At least not at this point. And...." My eyebrows lifted at a sudden memory, "You have to find Dani, Christopher. Find her and....ehh...keep her under lock and key."

"What? What in the world for?"

"Because!" I snapped. Jesus, wasn't this man supposed to be eternally devoted to me? That's what he said in his wedding vow.... "Look, she's in danger. A lot of danger." Danger of discovery. Much discovery. "We've got to hide her. Find her and do it NOW!" I slammed the door in his face and locked it back, turning to lean my shoulder against it as I thought. Dani needed to be kept out of this, or she very well could be lost to me forever. I moved back to the pile of papers and books, listening vaguely to Christopher's muffled reply of: "Yes, darling, of course!" before buggering off to collect the little Ventrue. He looked like a blueberry tonight, I thought, wondering why he chose such vivid attire. They just weren't flattering....

My fingers pulled the morning star back from its hiding place, caressing the handle with an almost loving touch.

"Someone's got a dirty secret."

There was an Italian somewhere in the library. I grasped the handle of the morning star and wheeled around as a devastatingly familiar face slipped from the shadows. He was tall, dark, handsome... almost everything I'd come to loathe after being married to Christopher for so long. His black hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and he was dressed, appropriately, in complete darkness.

"Marcus...." I narrowed my eyes and watched the Lasombra none-too-warily. "How dare you step foot in my..."

"I heard you speaking about Danelle," He interrupted smoothly.

"Yes. And?" I stiffened.

"So tense, Prince Aeslehc. That is what they call you now, isn't it? Aeslehc?" There was a devilish grin on his face as he continued, "I saw her, you know. She caught me off-guard as I was conducting some business just outside...."

My voice nearly caught in my throat, but I remained calm and firm. "What did you do? What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing." His hands were clasped behind his back as he slowly began to circle me in a wide arc. "Nothing at all."

"Where is she?"

"Ran off. I must say that such cowardice must be a grave mark against her... what do they call it? Dignatas?"

"She's no coward. You're a monster."

This elicited a wild response from him as he began laughing his ass off. Slapping his knee, he pointed at me and winked.

"This coming from you, hm? I must be bad."

"You will say nothing to her."

"I won't have to."

And the bastard slipped back into the darkness.


	9. Tin Cans and Nicolae

Chapter 9

Part 1, A track of leads as told by Ruth

We were on the road again.

"Hey guys?"

"Guys?"

"Aaaarron.... Birdie? Come on, guys....Talk to me."

Birdie glanced back at me in the rearview mirror before re-concentrating on the road. Aaron turned around, leaning to get a good look at me.

"Yes, Ruth?"

"...Did you really have to tie me up?"

I struggled against the binding chains and straps. It's amazing what you can find in old motels...

"We can't take any more risks, Ruth. You know that, I know ya do. Just sit back and relax already."

"Do we even know where we're going now?" I did as I was told, sitting back in the best way possible against the seat. A padlock dug into my tail bone. My hands, tied as they were behind my back, were just able to reach it...

"We have a clue," Aaron said as he held up the tuna can found the previous evening. I lifted an eyebrow.

"We're chasing down a cat?"

"No," Birdie replied, "We're going to the cannery."

"Why not the supermarket?"

"That would be too easy," Aaron said, grinning. "Besides, this kind of tuna is only exported to the U.S.. So what we're looking for is either at the cannery...."

"Or it's back over the ocean. Gotcha." I was watching the road, fingering the lock. I could break it, but it would be loud. I needed a diversion.

"Turn left, Bird." Aaron settled back in his seat. I glanced between them, then towards the road again.

"OH MY GOD, LOOK OUT!"

Birdie swerved, I broke the lock. The noise that was the product sounded as though the car had struck something....

"Holy shit, what did you hit?!" I screamed. Bird and Aaron looked at each other.

"I didn't feel a bump...."

"Still, better safe...." Aaron muttered as the two of them exited the car. I sat back and wrung my free hands.

Part 2: As told by Birdie

There was nothing around the front of the car or in back. There was no damage, either. I looked over to Aaron and shrugged.

"Must've run off."

"We didn't hit anything alive, Bird. That sounded like metal...."

"....wrenching apart." I finished. Our eyebrows shot up, the both of us ran back to the car.

The backseat was empty, save for a pile of chains and rope.

And one broken padlock.

"Shit!" Aaron put his fist through the windshield. "Where did she go?!"

I hissed through my teeth and folded my arms, glaring as I searched over the landscape around us with my eyes. The damn Malkavian was nowhere to be found.

"I hate Malkavians."

"Yeah."

"I fucking hate Malkavians."

"Yeah." I shook my head, "Where do you think she went?"

"To find Kiwi. Where else?"

I gave Aaron a strange look, watching as he merely smiled and motioned me back into the car with him. This time he took the driver's seat. Of course, she went to find Kiwi; that was the whole idea of this expedition, wasn't it? I shook my head and folded my arms, watching the drab, cold scenery drift by as we pulled off again. It occurred to me then, really, how much of a brown place this was. A damn paper bag, that's what it was, and ten times as cold. I wondered how the mortals living here could bear the fucking tediousness. Not that Oklahoma was much better, mind you....

"Fucking stop it, Bird."

"Stop what?"

"Thinking. It's that kind of shit that messes up good people."

"....screw you." I paused, shaking my head again, "Where do we start looking?"

He gestured through his window, "Follow the blood?"

On the road beside us, more blood than could ever be in one human body made a trail. A smashed up Toyota lay at the mile-marker, its occupants nowhere to be found aside from the streaks of gore leading from the open doors. My eyebrows arched.

"Next time, we tie her up with Titanium."

Aaron nodded his agreement.

Part 3: Back to Ruth

Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi----- SMASH!

I found myself laying backwards on the ground, a nasty pain in my side. I grunted and hauled myself up to face a little red Toyota with a fresh new dent in the front. My eyes narrowed as the middle aged driver got out and rushed towards me....

"Unita! Nograha noi! Simp ol! A noi? A noi! Eap! Gr–AghhhhhhhH!"

The Kamchactan babble cut off as the middle aged man lost his middle aged head. The people in the car, two equally middle aged women and a kid in his twenties, saw the whole scene and began shrieking. Well, I couldn't have them telling on me....

–------------

The last of the bodies, the 20 something year-old, I gazed at in my arms for a moment. He looked a little like my Kiwi. He was thinner by no small margin, darker-skinned where Kiwi was quite pale, and he had almost shoulder-length brown hair and a hawk-like nose.... Kiwi's nose was a little flat. I blinked softly, wondering why he reminded me of my Kiwi with the sculpted hair. I lifted my eyebrows as I realized.... His eyes! He had Kiwi's soft brown eyes. Maybe I should have left him alive. It didn't matter that I'd ripped off his left leg.... I paused in the act of heaving his bloodless body over the gulch by the side of the road. I bit down into my bottom lip, drawing blood, and kissed him long on the lips. Let him wake up enlightened. The middle aged group would be plenty of food. It occurred to me that the taller of the two women may even have a little life left in her.... It's so hard to tell, though, when the mortal doesn't have legs or arms anymore. I dropped him along with his friends, licking the wounds on my lips closed.

I saw the car coming back down the road and growled, glancing back to the Toyota I'd so nicely crushed in the attempt to get the people out. They'll stop there, to be sure. I needed to hide. Glancing down the gulch, I saw some movement. Most likely my new childe as he discovered the overpowering need to—

"Next time, we tie her up with Titanium"

I jumped without hesitation. Like Hell they would!

The trip down was a little rougher than I had anticipated and probably much louder. I fell against a lifting hill and rolled into the air for a moment before landing hard against the ground and dry brush. Frozen flecks of snow clung to me as I rolled into an area of dense, leafless trees. Skeleton trees. They reached for me, grabbing, clinging, pulling.... I curled up and fought the urge to shriek as I continued to roll, the pain in my side more evident now. How much damage had the car done when it hit me? I glanced back and saw a trail of my own blood. I'd been too intent on slaughtering the people in the car to notice my own wound....

THUNK.

I groaned and looked up at the trunk of the tree that had stopped my fall. Good tree. Concentrating, I forced the blood to pool into my wound to heal it, the flesh knitting back together. Only when even the remaining bruise was gone did I roll to my feet, using the tree for balance as I stood. The corpses were a few more feet down, the young man laying in the middle of them, looking towards me with bewildered Kiwi-eyes and cradling the space where his leg once was. I climbed down to him.

"Umbarit knol isnta noi noi!" His face was smeared with blood, I reached out and ran my finger through the gore on his face, tasting it with approval. His eyes were filling with tears.

"I don't speak Kamchactan." I said quietly, a hand on my hip.

"Um...urn.... Antish?"

"What....is.....your......name?"

"Ur?"

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I pointed to myself.

"RUTH." And I pointed to him, "Name?"

He pondered over these hand movements for a moment before sniffling and pointing to himself, "Nicolae."

I looked him over for a moment, nodding. Nicolae. Good name. And foreign. Granny Aeslehc would be pleased. Never mind the lack of one leg. These things could be gotten around.

He gestured to his leg, muttering about it in hoarse vowels. I knelt down and ran my hand over the stump. Yep. His new blood was working to heal it. I was sure he'd find away to get around that particular handicap. After all, it was only his body. I looked back into his eyes again, frowning. Kiwi....Kiwi....

"...I want Kiwi."

"Ki...wi?" He quietly repeated, frowning as if the name were familiar to him. Of course, it would be.... Kiwis are birds or fruits. Or fruity birds. "Kiwi." He said it with more certainty now, nodding.

I sat next to him, crossing my legs Indian-style. Up above, I could hear some crashing around in the skeleton trees, occasionally a curse.

"Kiwi?" I said. He nodded, repeating the word again. I made a flying motion with my hands. "Kiwi?"

He shook his head. I made an eating motion. "Kiwi?"

He shook his head again and made a walking motion with his fingers. "Kiwi."

My eyebrows lifted towards my hairline, excitement burning through my body. I leapt to my feet. "Where Kiwi? Nicolae, tell me!"

He, forgetting about the lack of one leg, attempted to stand only to fall.

"Stand up!" I screamed, my eyes burning. Out of fear, he used a tree to steady himself as he stood up. "Where is Kiwi?!"

"RUTH!" Aaron and Birdie jumped down from a few feet above our heads, each grabbing my arms.

"KIWI! WHERE IS KIWI!? I.....WANT......KIWI.....!"

"Ruth....geeze....calm down." Aaron took me completely, holding me as Birdie went to talk to Nicolae. Simpering, Nicolae babbled in broken English and Kamchactan, giving Birdie only a vague idea of what had just transpired. He did, however, understand the gist of it.

"She drink blood....she drink I blood...." He pointed to himself with big eyes, "We drink hair blood." He pointed to the corpses around them.

Birdie paused and then rolled his eyes, turning back to Ruth, "You Embraced him, Ruth?"

I nodded. "He has Kiwi's eyes."

"Great. Freaking great. This is what we need," Birdie hissed, "More Malkavians!" He punched a tree, startling Nicolae. The tree's bark crumbled away.

"Just kill him, Birdie...."

"NO, HE KNOWS KIWI!"

"Lord. If we kill him, she'll frenzy again... Look, I'll take care of her, Bird. Just get that guy up the cliff and into the car, ok?"

Birdie nodded.

"And...try to explain to him his new situation?"

"If I can." And Birdie began helping the one-legged Kamchactan Malkavian out of the gulch. "But if he crazies on me..."

"You'll be fine." Aaron turned from Birdie and concentrated on me, "What the Hell were you thinking? We can't afford anymore damn weight, Ruth!"

My voice cracked, I looked at him sadly, "He has Kiwi's eyes...."

He growled, but was holding himself back, "Just come on."

As we climbed the slope back up to the road, I saw a thin silver can roll down beside us, rolling down into the gulch. I paused and blinked....

"Aaron?"

"Shut the Hell up, just shut the Hell up."

I did as I was told and back to the waiting car we went.


	10. A thickening of Plots

Chapter 10:

Part 1: the Plot thickens, as told by Aeslehc.

"CHRISTOPHER! LET GO OF ME RIGHT NOW."

"I'm terribly, terribly sorry, Danelle, but this is for your own g–"

"Like Hell it is, Toreador, put me down!"

"Please Danelle, I promise–"

There was a crash and both of them yelled. I glanced down the hallway towards the other offices, not wanting to face either of them right now. It ought to be enough for them that I crawled out of my haven tonight, they should be happy about that. SLAM. Danelle's muffled voice. I unlocked the door into my little computer room, the old home of a broom closet. I swept it closed and put the padlock, bolt, chains, and knob-secure in place. The computer was idling, the soft hum of the motor like a kitten's purr. See the other elders caress a piece of modern technology like this! HAH. My dear friend greeted me with the cold, tinkling tune of Windows 98 as the screen loaded. Ah, 98...back when Windows wasn't so damn "user friendly". I logged onto the internet, needing to check my Neopets account. It had been a couple of nights, the pets were probably very hun—

"What the Hell?"

In yellow letters, across the screen, it read:

We're sorry, but your account has been FROZEN.

Frozen? I stared at the screen in disbelief. I hadn't even been on to do anything wrong recently! And it wasn't frozen a few days ago... It had to be a misunderstanding. I decided to send a letter to the administrators of the site to bring the matter to their attention.

The reply was quick and abrupt:

Dear DAeslehc12:

There are children who use this site, you sick freak! Take your mental problems elsewhere.

_Neopets_

Another email on the list, sent from a name I didn't recognize, caught my attention:

To: Nasty Neopia

Aw, did our poor prince lose her little Neopets account? You really should stop watching all that goat porn, Aeslehc...

Marcus

Goat porn? What in the world did he mean by that?

It slowly began to occur to me.

That. Bastard. He got my account frozen! Before I knew what I was doing, there was a crash, a small explosion, and a fizzling crackle as my fist went through the computer screen. Blood leaked around my fingers, and there was a sharp, burning pain, but I paid no mind to either. Oh. Oh, this was war...

Part 2: as told by Danelle.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK...

_It was_ _Kitel, a port city in New York, a small place. I was young. So young. Barely 18. 2 years old. Barely undead. There was a meeting in a basement and faces I don't remember. Voices I don't quite recollect. British, Italian, Creole. The beast had left his mark on all of them. In blood and flesh and fire. _

"_Put her in the closet. We'll come back for her later."_

"Danelle! It's for you own good!"

The closet was dark. It was small. The door was only wood...

_The closet was dark. I was trapped there. I was young. I was weak. I was hungry._ _The door was_ _wood. _

My fists throttled it. The wood splintered. The world was red.

_My fists beat against it. It held. Thuds. Pain. Bloody knuckles. All I could see was red._

I kicked through, there was a sick crack. It could have been my bones or the door hinges. I felt no pain.

_I slide down into one corner. Red. Red. Red. NO! I won't... I can't I won't I can't Iwont I...IcantIcantIcant! Icantthebeastnonononono..._

Freedom.

_Slipping in and out of consciousness. Hunger._ _Oh the hunger. _

Anger. Fear. Why? Why! There...

"Danelle? ...your eyes–oh shit."

Part 3: As told by Christopher.

The only room with a very good lock in the Elysium was a small closet in the north hall. It really wasn't a terrible place, it was a bit small–quaint, if you will–but quite nice. The bulb inside had burned out long ago, but I could see that the carpeting was pleasant, a rich burgundy and it was immaculately clean. Why, there was even a small, autographed portrait of myself in repose on the back wall. And it truly was for her own good. Couldn't she see that we were protecting her? OH, but why couldn't she see! Her screams and cries shook me in such a way that I was bothered, oh so bothered, deep to my very core. I had to go. I had to leave. Perhaps I would strum my guitar strings back at the haven I shared with my poor, darling bedlamite.

As I walked away towards my office to collect my things, from behind me came a horrible splintering sound, like the breaking of a thousand hearts. I turned back towards the closet where I had so protectively imprisoned my love's best friend only to find the door off its hinges and in a rather broken state, with the distraught woman standing before me with yellowing eyes.

"Danelle? ...your eyes–oh shit."

I adore my skin where it is, properly placed over my sinew and muscle and bones. It really wasn't a precious idea, the thought of being skinned alive by a Ventrue in frenzy.

So, I ran...

...smack dab into Aeslehc. I grunted and stumbled back a little ways. Danelle took the opportunity to leap upon me, eliciting a horrible scream from the pit of my chest as her extended fangs slipped like twin, white daggers into my quivering throat. This was the end! I could see it, the light at the end of the tunnel, the infinite darkness, the end of the road...I was being pulled away from it. Away from it all. I was being lifted up, up, up!

SMACK! Across my cheek, my lips, my nose–a hand fell. I opened my eyes and peered through heavy lashes at the face of Aeslehc. Oh no! Had Danelle descended like a plague upon my one true love as well?

"Knock. It. Off. Christopher." She shoved me away. I could see that Aeslehc's other hand was gripping the back of Danelle's neck like an alabaster vice. Oh, but she had saved my unlife! What a beautiful, wonderful, strong w—.

"What the Hell were you thinking?" Aeslehc loomed over me, despite being about a foot shorter. Danelle slumped against the wall, her knees clutched to her chest.

"I...b-b-b..."

"We. Will. Talk. About. This. Later. Danelle, go home."

When I looked back down, Danelle no longer leaned against the wall. She was gone.

"I did what you told me to do, my love. My darling. But she went insane and busted out of the closet..."

Aeslehc moved past me and observed the wreckage of the tiny room. I watched as she slowly moved back towards me and motioned for me to lean down.

I did so. "Yes, my lo—achk!"

She wrapped her fingers around my throat to choke off my ability to speak.

"Shut up." She said, holding my throat with one hand and clocking me upside the head with the other. "What the HELL made you think it was a good idea to lock Danelle up in a small, dark room! I TOLD YOU TO PUT HER UNDER LOCK AND KEY. NOT IN A PRISON CELL!"

I made a soft gurgling noise. It was rather indecent, but all I could do being unable to inhale.

"You are such an idiot! And...and..."

There was such harshness in her words. Such painful sharpness. She released me and gave a vicious snarl.

"...I didn't mean that, Christopher."And yet still, she growled in anger, "I'm under a lot of pressure. And that...wasn't a bright thing to do. Haven't you noticed that she doesn't like small places?"

"...I...guess not." I glanced away. A lot of pressure? What had she done beyond holing herself up and avoiding her duties as prince? I kept my blasphemous thoughts to myself, however, and merely gave my love a pacifying smile.

She ran a hand through her hair, which had begun to knot itself again into little tangles. "Listen... this is the least of our problems right now." Her voice held a quivering tone. "Someone...froze my neopets account."

"..."

"They will pay." She sneered, "Oh yes. Pay, they will. He. Will. Die. Ha. HahaHAHAHAhahahahaha..."

I reached out and lay my hands upon her shoulders, shushing her manic laughter with a quiet, soothing noise. "Of course, my love. They will pay." Oh damnable Neopets! Why would you take her soul? And what fool thought it would be funny to provoke her wrath? My heart went out to the pitiful creature that had done this to her. Although, secretly, I thanked them.

Part 4: The last straw, as told by Danelle

I got out of there as fast as I could. The memories came quicker now than they ever had. Fire. Blood. STOP IT! I collected myself enough to place a call to one of my ghouls to come and pick me up.

In the car, I mulled over in my mind what could have possibly possessed Christopher to think he was doing me a damn favor. He may have been brainwashed. But, then again, don't you have to have a brain in the first place? A smile twitched at my lips despite this situation. Oh, but Aeslehc had probably spooked him. Certain things drive certain men to extremes. His certain thing was our red-haired Malkavian. I wondered what she had told him that would make him do such an abrupt and apparently senseless act. Now that I was calmer, I could see why he would think I needed protection. Little Danelle, between childhood and adulthood for eternity. A smart girl, cunning business woman, savvy politician–not very good in a fight, though. Or so _they _thought. I sat back against the soft leather seats, crossing my legs and glancing through the window as the world went by. Another question entered my brain.

What was Marcus doing in town?

Could it have been his idea that the Sabbat take Del City now? Or was he supposed to be organizing the raid? (Organizing. Heh. Organization and Sabbat don't go in the same sentance!) And, again, my mind came round to Oklahoma City. The alliance. The spy in Kamchacta. It all didn't make sense...

I needed to talk to someone who could better understand these things. And soon. After a moment of thought, I knew who to call.

"_Papa, _this is Danelle." It had taken a couple of tries to get his number right in the phone. He never kept the same phone line for longer than a week, sometimes changing numbers far more frequently. "Are you busy?"

The man on the other line was soft and deep, an almost cheesy French accent smoothing out the rough edges of his voice, "Bonjour, Danelle! Ah, but you know I always 'ave time for you..."

"Oh, thank you, Henri. Can you come by tonight?"

"I'm doing a job in France right now, chere, but once I finish, I will hop ze first flight out. Per'aps it will be tomorrow night..."

"That works. I'll let you get back to business, then, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Au revoir, Danelle."

"Graci, Henri."

I hung up and slipped the phone into my breast pocket as we arrived at my haven. I was looking forward to seeing my "Papa" again. The strange little man hadn't been around in so long, I'd been wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. He had a penchant for trouble, but a silver tongue suited for getting himself out of any situation as well as...other...abilities. I suppose I just wasn't used to not having him around so much. There was a time when he would show up almost every night with news of something or other or gifts or just in time to strike down any dangers to my personal health. A very convenient man, that Henri. A very strange, but convenient man.


	11. The Magnolia

_(I know what you're thinking. "HOLY CRAP! Aes updated!" Yeeeeah. Writer's block is a damn rapist, but Muses are wonderful and dinner-providing.)_

Chapter 11, The Magnolia

Part One, as told by Ruth

The night was angry and red. A hawk was perched upon the utmost tower of an old Eastern Orthodox church, her claws wrapped around the salt-colored steeple. Blood was dripping from a shining blade in her jaws... Corpses littered the ground below, dead mortals among piles of human-shaped ash...

Dead. All dead. All to be dead. We were—

"AARON! BIRDIE!"

"For fuck's sake, Ruth! What the Hell?" Aaron's voice was groggy and weighted with sleep. My eyes were closed; I could feel him shifting against my side. I grabbed for him and held myself against the groaning leather of his jacket as sleep dragged me down again. Birdie's voice uttered something in the darkness, but it was lost on me.

I woke up five after sundown, just as the other two were stirring. Birdie pushed against the wall behind us and I saw a dim light pool into the trunk where we were hiding. He crawled out into the backseat; we heard a soft, yet distinct click as the trunk lid swung upwards, releasing us.

I rolled out onto the rocky surface of someone's unpaved driveway. It took me a moment to remember where this was.

The squat, black-roofed rock house was the only building in miles; it was abandoned because half of it was burned out, but the front looked intact enough that noone would bother us if the car was parked in the driveway. I folded my arms and approached the front door with curiosity, my feet kicking rocks and some gray dust out of the way.

There was a cold feeling in the pit of my body. Something just felt wrong somehow.

Like something...some_one_ was missing.

A flash of lightening broke open the sky as I turned to face the once again, my eyes narrowing.

"...where is Nicolae?"

"Calm down, Ruth..." Aaron put his hands up defensively.

"WHERE IS NICOLAE." Not a question. A demand. They would tell me or all friendship was forfeit.

The red haze. Growling. I stalked towards them.

"Ruth..."

"SHUT! UP!"

"Yea, but—GACK!" I closed my hand around Aaron's throat. It wouldn't choke or kill him. Vampires don't breathe. I just wanted him to shut up shut up shut up. Nicolae...with my Kiwi's eyes...THEY KILLED HIM!

"You killed him. His pretty eyes. He doesn't have Kiwi's eyes anymore. He has no eyes." I paused, "...I'm going to make you have no eyes."

I tightened my small hand around his huge throat, quite unaware of the difference in size.

I didn't see Birdie come up behind me until he'd already had the new-found gun to my head. Apparently the former owner of the burned out house left quite a collection of toys.

"I will kill you."

"You killed Nicolae!"

"Let go of Aaron, Ruth. I will fucking kill you."

Aaron merely stood there, looking down at me with the most irritated expression. After a moment, he simply reached up and pried my fingers from around his throat, keeping hold of my hand.

"He ain't dead! Jesus Christ, you need to listen. Little fuck hobbled off to get some food."

"...oooh."

I smiled sheepishly and put my hands in my pockets. The gun, in turn was removed from the side of my head and I barely heard Birdie grumble, "God, sometimes I swear she's one of ours."

It was at that point that I actually saw my Nicolae dragging himself along the side of the road towards us, blood all over him.

"Great, he takes after you. Just what we..." Birdie paused and exchanged a look with Aaron as a sharp noise sliced through the air. They then threw themselves at me, dropping to the ground with my body as a sandwich between theirs and the gravelly earth.

"HEY! Get off...of...me?" Most of my vision was blurred by dust and rocks, but just out of the corner of my eye, I swear I could see a dark blur flash across the empty road. "Nicolae, look out! NICOLAE!"

They forced my head down, my eyes shrouded in darkness, but I could hear the singing of metal cutting wetly through flesh and bone... and quickly after, a heavy thud.

I didn't hear my own scream, my ears had turned themselves off, but I felt Aaron's cold hand pressing against my eyes as he pulled me to my feet and began pulling me away. Somewhere...somewhere...we were going somewhere...

Part 2: As told by Birdie

The moment the blade made contact with the flesh of Ruth's new toy, I was moving. I gestured for Aaron to take her back to the car– having her frenzy again now would be Hell. It would complicate something that had...well...let's face it, it'd started out pretty goddam complicated. And who the fuck was after us now?

I was inside the half-burned building when the next attack came– the blow was directed at me, but the weapon was no sword.

What was singing through the air towards me was a fucking bamboo cane.

I threw myself forward at the last moment and rolled beneath a half-broken old dinner table as the weapon thrashed downward. The movement was so quick that all I saw was an inverted cone of dust as it struck the floor and flew back into the air with its wielder. Outside, I could hear the car starting. Would I make it?

I fucking wasn't going to die there, hiding under a table like a pussy, that's for damn sure. The arsenal left behind by some Russian criminal or other was in the collapsed room to my left. If I was fast, maybe I could make it.

Maybe or not; I wasn't going to die there.

I moved.

Twing. Swish. Twing. I felt an agonizing heat as the cane cut into my upper arm as if it were made of forged steel instead of bamboo. Growling, I turned and barely caught sight of a disappearing black braid...

I made it into the collapsed room, eyes falling upon the trunks and trunks of old, but still usable weaponry. At least we had some kind of distinguishable feature... A black braid. I frowned as I grabbed the first weapon I came to, stuffing it into the waistband of my jeans before taking two more guns and a knife. The knife I put in my boot. The guns I loaded as I started to run for it once again...

Ruth was in the trunk. I could tell by the bumps she was causing by beating her fists against the lid. As soon as I got in and before I could close the door, Aaron was speeding off.

"What in Fucking Austria was that!" Aaron screamed as he pushed the pedal to the floor, the car in turn shrieking down the road.

"Someone wants us dead." I replied with a shrug.

"No kidding." His tone was an acidic growl, "I couldn't even sense it coming. Jesus."

I sat back and folded my arms across my chest with a frown, "It was a Goddamn bamboo cane. Who carries a bamboo cane?" Aaron suddenly looked very dark. I lifted an eyebrow. "Something...wrong?"

"Did you see anything else?"

"Just a black braid. Either it's a woman or a damn Toreador."

Aaron's voice dropped to a whisper and I could swear that he almost looked...afraid.

"The Magnolia..."


	12. A Brief History and Some Surprises

Chapter 12

Part One: The French Shadowmaster, as told by Danelle

I ran the comb one last time through my newly-dyed black hair and glanced over myself in the simple full-length mirror to see that I was presentable, not that my adopted father-figure ever seemed to notice whether or not I was.

The doorbell rang; I could hear as my ghoul, Alexander crossed the foyer to answer it. There was the brief exchange of formal greetings and I could hear a note of approval and respect in the Irish boy's tone–he liked Henri very much, I knew.

They continued to speak as their footsteps grew louder.

"Miss is in the study, sir. A fair warning–she's been in something of a foul mood recently."

"Ah, well, I 'adn't expected zis to be a visit of pleasure. Tell me, should I fear for my skin?"

Alexander gave a small laugh, "I should think not, sir. Miss is, of course, quite fond of you."

"But of course...I'm adorable!"

As adorable as a steel trap! Ah, but they were right. There was something strangely endearing about the man. It could have been the fact that he was just barely five-foot three...

The soft rap of Alexander's knuckles against the door brought a thin smile to my lips.

"Come in."

My ghoul knew enough that, when he opened the door to reveal the little Frenchman, he took several steps back, although I almost didn't give him the chance to move. It wasn't a half-second after the door had swung open that Henri found himself on his back between the thick carpet and barely 110 lbs of stressed-out Ventrue.

Undignified behavior, perhaps, but sometimes a girl just needs her Papa

He hugged me silently for a moment before sitting up and letting me slide off, smiling and shaking his head.

As he stood and helped me up from the floor, I was able to register something very different about the little man. His appearance...and smell...were particularly striking.

He didn't smell of old blood and bad cigars. His hair wasn't weighted down with months (or years) of grease and filth. He had...bathed some time in the past month.

As strange as it may sound, the notion of Henri cleaning himself more than once every 20 years is almost laughable.

I'd met Henri a century ago through Aeslehc (and their story, perhaps, will be told another time). I did not trust him. Indeed, there was at first no real reason for me even to have _liked _him in those first years. To begin with, he smelled vile and never bathed, an aspect I still find quite hard to even tolerate. His hair, which is naturally very fair and blond, was always a disgusting shade of brown, rust, or black, depending on where he'd been. And yet, as bad as that was in and of itself...it was, in fact, not nearly the worst of it.

When I first met him, he was 12 times my own age and I had been among the undead for 50 years. As old–ancient, even, in my own eyes–as he was, the one thing that always continued to bother me and still continues to make me wonder...is that he never acted as such. He was not cold and aloof or paranoid and unapproachable. His years had made him shrewd, certainly, but he wasn't the devious bogeyman of the daymares of young neophytes. He had a boyish charm and, for a reason I have yet to determine, was fiercely protective of me.

Henri also shared the same clan at the monster I had come to so loathe and fear and I suppose that is the single reason why a portion of me still won't quite trust the old man. He and Marcus, for all I knew at the time, could have been one and the same. However, Henri was not, that I knew of, with the Sabbat, but nor did he share affiliation with the antitribu in the Camarilla or any other group. He did them favors, jobs, as I understand, or provided certain tidbits of information for a certain price, but Henri was loyal to no mainstream association.

In any case, it was the boyish charm and the fact that Aeslehc appeared to trust him almost more than she appeared to trust Christopher that won me over and eventually led to my treating him as something as a father figure.

"Signore..." I began, feeling a strange smile cross my lips, "Papa Henri...you're..._clean_."

"Keep it down, mademoiselle." He said with a smile as he pulled the study door closed. I motioned for him to sit down in one of the arm chairs in the center of the room. He grinned at me, "I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation."

"Ah, but people will see!" I smiled and sat across from him, crossing my legs beneath my skirt.

He gave me a very serious expression for a moment, "Do I really look zat different?"

"Well, yes; don't you ever—ah, but of course you don't. My apologies, Signore. How could I forget?"

The Lasombra are afflicted with the disability of having no reflection, in the way of the old vampires of myths and legends. Henri, as a general rule, tended to fair well since he never particularly gave much mind to his appearance in the first place.

He gave a flippant wave and a smile, "Think nothing of it, Danelle. Now, what was it you so desperately needed to see me about?"

Part Two: Death by Neopetting, as told by Aeslehc

"Aeslehc?" Christopher's voice chittered down the hallway and filtered into my office. I hadn't been here in what seemed like years; the little closet-sized room always did good enough for me, but at the moment, I didn't really want to be found and this was the last place anybody would look for me.

Or so I thought.

Significant others will be significant others, I guess. Christopher poked his head in through the door and I mentally cursed myself for having forgotten to lock it.

He looked disappointed to see me sitting at my new computer, although he couldn't see the screen from his angle and, of course, naturally assumed I was on Neopets.

He couldn't have been more wrong, of course.

I was playing the Sims.

"Aeslehc, shouldn't you be–"

"Shh. Give me a minute, Christopher. I'm blowing off steam." With a grin, I turned the computer monitor around to face him. On the screen, a familiar dark-haired figure was pinned up and on fire. Christopher winced.

"Right, right. Well, when you've finished alighting your sims, my love, don't you think it would be prudent to strike the matter at hand?"

I looked up and nodded, narrowing my eyes, "Of course, you're right. I have to hunt him down and set him on fire for real. What good is doing it in a game when I can barely garner the same satisfaction?"

He blinked and clasped his hands behind his back, appearing to be in thought.

"Passion fruit."

"...um...what was that, my love?"

"Christopher, you look like a passion fruit tonight. It screams flaming homosexual."

"...Aeslehc, you really need to get to this business of Oklahoma City and whether or not we're going to be attacked by the Sabbat."

I stood up and shrugged, but offered a smile, "Listen." I leaned forward and shut down the game, eyes lifting back to the tall Toreador. "I know what I'm doing and I'm biding my time. That's all you need to know and that's all you're _going _to know. Trust me, I'm taking care of it."

I watched his face turn red. Was he embarrassed or pissed off? My money fell on "pissed off", as he would have apologized like a kicked puppy had he felt embarrassed. He straightened the pinkish colored suit, ran a hand through his hair and nodded irritably.

"If you say so, my love. If you say so."

And he turned and left. I snorted and folded my arms across my chest. Piss ant. Why the Hell did I still keep him around?

Ah. Right. The sex.

Part Three, Immobility, as told by Christopher

I left as quickly as possible before I could say anything that might be an affront to the woman who did so pull my heartstrings. Sometimes she could be so very, very infuriating. What did she expect me to trust her to do besides shirk her duties and sit behind the glow of an expensive machine, watching chattering not-people go about their daily not-lives as everything fell to the great beyond around us?

I expelled a carefully cultivated sigh and made my way from the Elysium for the time being. She wanted to be alone; I would leave her alone.

The night was cool–crisp, even–and the moon shone with its soft white glow reflecting between pale clouds. A romantic night that made me want to go back inside and apologize for nothing I had reason to apologize for. Somewhere, distantly, came the smell of a fireplace (from one of the few homes in the city wealthy enough to own a fireplace). It made me nostalgic for a simpler existence as my feet brushed against the loose gravel and stray grass coming from the cracks of the parking lot and sidewalk. The urge to play pulled deep within me, but my instruments were home or in the Elysium. I couldn't backtrack just yet. I was willing to give her time... And home was merely a pinch of miles away. I could walk the distance, as long as it remained so calm and peaceful as it was.

"Deep in thought, friend?"

A dread-locked figure stepped in beside me. He was smiling and youthful, but smelled of unliving blood. Habitually, I didn't trust him, but the company would be welcome until he left or proved dangerous.

"Yes, you might say that. I'm afraid the night has been terribly hectic."

"But isn't it always? For anyone, I mean."

I smiled. I enjoyed his accent, although I couldn't place it. It was almost the faded accent of an equally faded Creole. A man who left behind his heritage in favor of new "life". It was a terribly tragic thought.

"I suppose it is. Are you having a hectic night yourself?"

"Something like that." He grinned and slipped his hands into the pockets of his somewhat rugged-looking leather jacket, "You're a Toreador, right?"

Ah, to be recognized! I gave him an inclination of my head, "Why yes I am. The Toreador Primogen, in fact."

"No kidding?" The grin never faded, "So's my buddy, Pagan. We're passing through."

"How long do you intend to stay?"

"For a good long while." He was still grinning; I began to feel uneasy, but my busy mind assumed that he was merely another Malkavian come to make my existence Hell.

It pains me to say that I never felt the danger but for a second just before the sharp tip of a fencepost pierced the flesh of my back and entered my dormant heart.

As consciousness faded into paralysis, I heard another voice behind me, presumably the one called "Pagan", say "Stick him in the truck and cover him up."

Oh what a sickeningly bitter turn!


	13. We'll never smell the same

(Psst, don't forget to check the update journal (I call it that because I'll post crappy commentary every time I stick up a chapter. It's just something that amuses me. But it'll also have other stuff.) You might get snippets of Dani's art for a comic based on KiK. The layout drawing was done by her; it's all the main characters, including Marcus and Henri. You can find the link as the homepage on my profile.)

Chapter 13:

Part One: This place smells like shit, as told by Birdie

We were safe, for the time being. Ruth was immobilized to keep her from losing it again since her new pet was no more than a neat little pile of dust now. At the moment, we had her propped up against the sewer wall.

Yeah. We were in a sewer. We figured it would be the last place the assassin would think to look for us.

Kamchacta seemed to shit a lot for a country whose cow to human ratio was 6 to 4. The three-inch water level was uncomfortably lumpy in places; we tried not to think about it.

The sewers were also pretty damn big for where we were (just big enough for an average-sized guy to stand up straight and stretch his arms wide out in). Aaron figured it was because Kamchacta was the dumping ground for the Russian mafia. One big sewer with ample body-room and nobody they'd have to pay off to keep quiet. It made sense to us, particularly since we'd only gone in about twenty feet and had already seen five floaters.

Anyway. Yeah, so we were in the sewer and safe from "Magnolia" for the moment. While we had the time and since we had no plan to speak of, I had Aaron clue me in on just who this woman was and why the fuck he was scared of her.

"Siddown," He said. I glanced to the murky, chunky, ambiguous water soaking into my pantlegs.

"I'll keep standing, thanks."

He shrugged and crossed his arms, taking a few minutes to, gather his thoughts before he started.

"There ain't much anybody knows about her, not even clan. Hell, noone's sure "she's" even a she."

"Yeah, but the hair and movement kinda—"

"You know well as I do that movement's got nothin' to do with whether she's a man or she's a woman. And these days, that hair..." He shook his head and glared at me, "And dammit, man, you wanted ta hear this, now shut it already."

"Okay...okay..." I motioned for him to go on. He nodded with a snort and set his head against the wet concrete. I tried not to think about what he might have touched leaning against it like that.

"She don't use vampiric power except Celerity. She moves so fast that she don't need any power to keep her invisible. But that doesn't give any clue what clan; Hell, fucking everyone uses Celerity nowadays. For the longest time, people thought she was Assamite."

Well, that made sense. Assassins were nearly always Assamites. The clan was famous for it.

"But they ain't claimin' her as their's, see. And as successful as she is, ain't anybody going to disown her."

"Okay, but why does she scare you?"

"It's not really Magnolia herself that scares me, Bird. But you gotta know that she won't work for just anybody." He paused, "...whatever we're in, it's big and beyond bustin' our friend out of some lab somewhere... Someone major wants us to quit interfering–someone _more _major than the bastard Prince after Aeslehc's city, I can tell ya that."

I nodded and set my eyes down, watching nasty hunks of unpleasant things float by. Idly, I kicked one.

"...so what do we do? Keep to the sewers 'til she finds us?"

"That ain't a bad idea. The shit and dead bodies'll hide our scents good enough, I think, and it'll be harder for her to get the drop on us 'cause of the enclosure... The only problems would be..." He glanced to Ruth and back to me, "The dead weight until we can be sure that she's not going to shred us to Hell and back, feeding, the fact that we have no idea where these sewers go; we might end up in Siberia or something if we're not careful, and then...and then there's the Nosferatu."

I groaned. Right. Ugly fucking sons of bitches. The sewers were probably crawling with them. Then again, we hadn't seen any other vampires since we'd been in Kamchacta... maybe there just weren't that many to begin with. If that was the case, we might only run into one or two Nossies in the sewer (one or two more than I wanted to deal with, but still...).

"...on the other hand, though, if we _do _run into any, we might be able to strike up a deal or something to find our way through since they'd know where everything is."

I nodded, "Yeah, okay. Good point."

"C'mon, let's just start walking somewhere. We're bound to run into something eventually."

Part 2: You can all burn...not _die_...**burn**, as told by Ruth

Birdie nudged a bloated corpse out of the way as he grabbed me and tossed me over his thin shoulder. Why couldn't Aaron have carried me? At least _he _came with padding. Those bastards, staking me like that... I wasn't going to lose it. I wasn't going to lose it! And all I could do was watch now. Those _bastards._

And I had SUCH a lovely view of the shit-water from the angle I was being carried. It was really great. Really.

Bastards.

I closed my mental eyes and listened to the sounds of running water, closed my nose to the scents of...well...everything. It just wasn't worth opening my nose in this place. Instead, I drew into myself to the one thing I could still move: my mind.

Kiwi. Kiwi and a thin, one-legged Kiwi. They were standing there, watching me. And then the latter crumbled into dust.

Right, my Nicolae. The Kiwi-eyed boy. Headless. I wondered idly if his head crumbled, too, when it plopped so cleanly from his neck. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to feel the rage and depression that I knew should be associated. Maybe they paralyzed my emotions, too? But...no. No, my emotions were in the one thing I could still move. Maybe I wasn't really paralyzed and was really running insane in frenzy, tearing things apart as usual and coating myself in blood and gore. Maybe I'd killed everyone already. The thought was lovely and I tried to smile, but couldn't.

Bastards. If I _were _insane, I'd have torn them to shreds first using a stiff sheet of paper.

I wanted my Kiwi. My Kiwi would make it all better, but I couldn't feel him anymore. I hadn't heard anything from him since the car ride. Maybe I was crying. Something warm was trickling from my eyes.

"Is she _crying_?"

Birdie's voice. I allowed my eyes to see and found that I'd been set down again, this time on a platform beside a maintenance door. They were watching me with nearly shocked expressions.

"Maybe we should take it out..."

Birdie looked uncertain as he pulled a gun out from a hidden space in his jacket. Just in case. Heh. Just in case. I was faster than a bullet. Faster than a bullet...sounded like a song or an insulting sex joke. Poor Superman.

"Look, just pile some rats up next to her for food, pull it out, and run like Hell..."

They exchanged a glance, probably silently arguing about who should be the one to release me. Fucking bastards. There were still hot red tears trickling from my eyes. My Kiwi would release me. Closed my sight again. Saw only Kiwi. Kiwi...

When I saw again, I was physically opening my eyes. I saw Kiwi, standing broad and tall amongst the filthy, shit-covered corpses and drippy pipes.

"KIWI!"

I lunged forward, tackling him to the ground and wrapping my arms around him. We kissed. And kissed and kissed and—

"WHAT. THE. FUCK?"

Part Three: Oh my dear Lord, as told by Birdie

Aaron had lost the coin toss over who was going to free Ruth, so I broke the neck of a sixth rat and tossed it up next to her before retreating several feet away and preparing myself for a quick flight. Aaron had my gun just in case.

He stepped up, glanced down to me and we exchanged nods before he put all his weight into removing the stake, staggering back a few paces when it was out.

Ruth sat very still for a moment before her eyes opened. To our surprise, they were clear and blue and not tinged the yellow of frenzy. It filled us with something like a false sense of security. We didn't expect her to attack this time...

She threw herself at Aaron, knocking him down and sending the gun sprawling. I dove back through the tunnel to grab for it, raising it up towards her.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK?" Aaron screamed. I lowered the gun and turned my head to hide the grin...

At least she wasn't ripping into his throat.

When I looked back, Ruth had thrown herself back onto the platform and was gorging on the rats. It was pretty gross to watch, but we couldn't be picky. Aaron and I knew we'd have to give in to the little rodents eventually, depending on how long we had to stay underground. Aaron stood up again, looking shocked and confused as Hell, his clothes now completely soaked and smelling fucking _foul._

"So how was it?"

"Shut up, Bird."

"Did she use her tongue?"

"Fucking quit it, Bird."

"You liked it."

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!"

I gave him a grin that faded quickly as the soft trickling noises of sewer water became disrupted. Something was passing beneath a nearby fall. The water began to fall normally again until another disruption came and another...

Something in my gut told me that the local Ugly Fucks (tm) had detected our presence.

And damned if my gut wasn't right.


	14. Another Disappointment

Chapter 14

Part One, as told by Christopher

I awoke, presumably in a warehouse, considering the large amount of boxes, shelves, and metal things.

It had always been my experience that only tragic and deplorable fates can befall a man in a warehouse, anywhere from the horrors of being a blue-collar worker to being beaten by local thugs to being the unwilling participant in a snuff film. Somehow, I felt this would be quite between the last two and leaning dangerously towards the third.

I was weak and bleeding and every orifice felt violated in the most horrible, depraved ways. I shuddered to think of what had happened during my unconsciousness. I struggled against the binding chains; a white-hot pain screamed through my nerves when I moved my hands. They were above my head and, as I tilted my eyes upward to see them, were tied together, nailed to one another, and hung from a hook. I was no more than a paltry piece of meat in this place, hung like a rump roast over God-knows-what sort of wretched ritual!

It turned out that I wasn't hanging over anything, or, really rather high from the ground at all. In fact, if I stretched my feet and pointed my toes, the tips of my shoes grazed the concrete. Everything was bleeding. I could see my blood leaking out through as of yet unhealed wounds–burn wounds, deep lacerations, _holes _of an unpleasantly mysterious nature. If I was to go without feeding for very much longer, I would have no blood left to allow my brutalized form to right itself once more.

"He's awake."

The Creole's voice. Damnable man! _I shall never speak to another stranger again_, I thought to myself, although not believing a word of it.

Another voice found its way into my ears. It was a soft, deep Italian and I frowned somewhat. Why must these evil fiends have such beautiful voices? The Italian man stepped into my line of vision and looked up at me. I was, perhaps, but a handful of inches taller than he, although he stood well above six feet. He had hair as black as anything I had ever seen. And something...something within me wanted to wrench my hands free from the painful bondage all in an attempt to run it through my fingers.

...good Lord, maybe Aeslehc was right. This suit _did _make me seem like a flaming homosexual!

"So you're the bitch's man whore. Well...one of them."

His eyes were darker than his hair and framed by the thickest eyelashes. He was thin and leaning, with—

Bitch?

I growled at him, feeling brave even in my weakened state, "I will thank you not to speak of my love in that fashion. Whatever she has done to you, I'm quite sure it was all fully jus..ti...Er...one of them?"

The dark eyes glistened and he grinned with a perfect row of white teeth, a small light making the fangs there sparkle, "Oh my _yes. _Didn't you know? I have quite a list if you'd like to hear it."

No. It could not be true! Perhaps he meant of past lovers, before me? Oh, yes, of course. That had to be it!

"Her past is no business of mine."

"Past? You Toreadors are so disgustingly delusional." He began to laugh, "She has a taste for Latins, you know. Particularly the French... I wonder why she picked _you_ up?"

"Because she loves me like no other!"

"I think it's because you're her loyal puppy." He moved closer to me, the height difference doing nothing to hinder his ability to look down upon me as one would look down upon the scum of the Earth. "You do everything for her, honor her whims, defend her when she isn't fulfilling her duties, cover for her when she fails. And she _does _fail, doesn't she, Toreador? Tell me... what does she do for you in return?"

"She..." I hesitated. There was nothing behind the cloud of my love, nothing I could grasp and throw back in his face, but I remained steadfast, "It doesn't matter what she does for me in return! I will love her forever."

"Will you?" He smiled with barely parted lips, "I wonder. You were, after all, looking at me like you'd like to bend me over and show me a thing or two a few moments ago..."

I narrowed my eyes at him and wanted to _very _quickly change the subject, "Who are you?"

"My name is Marcus."

I fell silent for a moment. I had to say it. "Thank you."

The words clearly caught him off-guard and his expression turned cautious, "For what...?"

"Getting her Neopets account frozen. You've no idea the trials I've gone through attempting the very same thing."

Part Two, as told by Danelle

"...and then I left and called you."

Henri had been listening silently and patiently as I recounted the events since Aaron, Birdie, and Ruth had left for Kamchacta. Occasionally, he would not or make a soft noise of thought, but never once did he interrupt. Only now did he speak.

"And where is Aeslehc now?"

I exhaled softly and shook my head, "I don't know. She's been moving between her home and the Elysium, but she put her hand through the computer in her usual hiding spot last night, so I wouldn't know where she would be now."

He rose a half-moment before I did.

"We need to find 'er. Quickly, Danelle..."

The 'quickly' wasn't a request. It bordered on a gentle, but impatient demand. We wasted no time in leaving to locate the prince.

"What do you think is happening...?"

We were leaving the driveway of Aeslehc's home, having found no trace of the Malkavian _or _Christopher there. Henri shook his head.

"I don't know. It all seems so very...fucked up."

I had to hide a smile at the foul word, letting my gaze linger through the tinted window. Henri didn't swear very often and when he did...it always sounded so very strange, like it didn't quite fit in his mouth.

We pulled into the Elysium parking lot and a quick scan revealed Aeslehc's car parked near the entrance. I instructed our driver to remain outside as the two of us went into the library, through the heavy, locked and coded "employees only" door at the back.

When we got down into the offices, we found that the little hole-in-the-wall room was empty, save for the busted corpse of Aeslehc's old computer. Our last hope was that she would be in what was supposed to be her real office. Just in case, Henri and I scanned the empty rooms along the hall that led us into the corner office of the prince. From inside, we could hear faint music and what sounded like tiny screams for help. Confused, we exchanged a glance before I stepped up and knocked on the door.

"My prince?"

There was no reply.

"...Aeslehc?"

Still no reply. I braced myself as I put a hand on the doorhandle, pressing in and finding it unlocked...

The door swung open to reveal the woman leaning over her desk and looking rather...manic. She closed her eyes for an extended period of time before lifting them to look up at us.

The manic expression faded to something else entirely as she practically threw herself over the desk and at Henri. Once again, the old Lasombra found himself beneath a woman, although a much larger woman and in a very different capacity. At any other time, he would have shooed me out and welcomed the Malkavian's wriggling tongue down his throat, but he was quite grave and serious as he pushed her away, catching her wrists and sitting up with her. They locked eyes.

"You're not taking zis situation seriously, are you Aeslehc?"

Part 3, as told by Aeslehc

I was taking the situation far more seriously than they knew. I pushed the little man away and stood up, straightening my shirt and folding my arms. My eyes narrowed and I turned around to storm back into the office. The computer screen showed dying sims, writhing and screaming. One was on fire. Next to the computer was a note written in blood on suspiciously spongy, pink material.

The note read:

_We have your husband, bitch. If you want the fuck back relatively in one piece, you'll come to 2342 Lawton Road._

_Oh, and give my sire my regards._

-_m_

I handed the flesh-paper to Danelle, who took it with a disgusted grimace and held it out for Henri to see. He and I exchanged a glance at Danelle's next question.

"His sire? Who's his sire? What does that have to do with anything?"

We were silent. I suppose to a Ventrue, silence really does speak volumes...

She turned on Henri with wide eyes.

"I...Papa... you're his...that monster's..."

She was trembling, but fighting not to. I couldn't decide if it was in fear or in rage. I sat back behind the desk and steepled my fingers beneath my chin. It was Henri's call...

He was staring at the sims on the computer screen as they all finally died, curling up, visited by the reaper, and transformed into tombstones. His hair was over his eyes as he lifted his head and turned to face Danelle.

"I sired 'im, yes."

She was fighting herself and fighting hard. She wanted to hurt him, to scream at him. And who could blame her? She was confused.

And Ventrue don't like to be confused.


	15. Nossies!

_(I'm on a roll, aren't I? My ADD's caused me to kinda forget the update/cheesecake journal, but I'll get to it...eventually. - Aes)_

Chapter 15

Part One: Meet the Locals, as told by Birdie

The first materialized out of nowhere, just a shadow several feet to our left and then another did the same to our right. There was a wet scuffling from where we'd been and, turning around, we saw that three more of them had slithered from the woodwork, so to speak.

And, as expected, they were the most fucking repulsive things I had ever seen in my life.

Unlike the first two, who still remained partially concealed, we could see these three in perfect detail. The center creature was my height or shorter with one leg gnarled like the warped trunk of a tree, although it didn't do a damn thing that I could see to hinder its (his?) balance. It was the only one of the three with hair– a matted tuft of grime making the hair a black faux-hawk, but I couldn't really decide if it was intended or not. It had smallish, beady eyes and sick gray skin and its face looked as if it had gone for a dip in a fresh tub of acid. One ear appeared fused to its head, the other was sharp and extended, sporting six simple gold earrings in a row. The two on either side of it were squat and vicious-looking. Their fucking teeth hung over their bottom teeth and they rested on all four limbs, making me think of big-ass, man-eating toads. Or...maybe they _were _big-ass, man-eating toads. It's kinda sad when you can't tell the difference between a vampire and mutated toad...

"N'gra lonaga!"

It was the thing in the middle either attempting conversation or trying to throw up on us.

"Hey...uh...we'sa speaka de English." I said, suddenly finding the turds and disembodied limbs floating in the water _very _interesting.

"Englisssshhhhh." Mutated toad #1 hissed at us, "N'gra! Lishira Erizzza."

Aaron and I exchanged a glance; Ruth was still dining on rats.

The creature to our left made its way through the pipe, pausing when we could see it more clearly.

Well, it wasn't a fucking prize chicken, but at list it wasn't like looking at a mutated toad or something that had been doused in acid.

This one also had hair, shaggy brown hair that fell in his weird pink eyes. He, too, had gray skin, but the gray skin more common to an unfed vampire than to something completely disgusting. Both ears were sharp and pointed and his fangs were almost twice as long as the average undead, hanging unretractable over his bottom lip. He was thin to the point where we could see his sharp bones poking up beneath his flesh. The thing went beyond being a fucking toothpick.

"I am...Erik." His accent was Russian, which wasn't entirely shocking considering the close proximity to the country. "Boss want to know why you come here. Better make it quick or you are being foods for _that._"

He gestured behind him, where sat something...something...Hell, _something_ is about all you can describe it as. What it was, we had no goddamn clue. It was something like a huge, fat snake crossed with a rat crossed with a poor fucker of a human being before being set on fire and deprived of any light for ten years.

"Is gift from Chernobyl. Boss's best pet for many year. It like American bloods."

Another glance between me and Aaron was exchanged. Ruth...being Ruth...finally decided to pipe up.

"Can I touch it?"

Part Two: They Look so Scared, as told by Ruth

As soon as I spoke, Aaron and Birdie grabbed onto me at the same time and I wriggled in their grasp. They didn't know! How could they know? How...NO! They didn't!

"Indulge her, Brujah boys, Boss's pet won't eating 'til boss say is eating. Talk while she touch, though, or Boss give word."

They reluctantly freed me and I made my approach to the big thing... its head came to my chest and it made me think of the giant chocolate lab that Aeslehc had in the '70s. Except this thing was kinda grayish-green, not brown. And wasn't as soft or fuzzy. And probably wasn't about to roll over and ask for a belly rub.

I patted its blunt, scaley nose, watching the round yellow eyes glare at me, probably wishing it could bite my head off. I listened to Aaron explain our situation to the translating Nosferatu, who in turn babbled in the Kamchactan native language to who I guessed was probably the leader.

I cooed quietly in the Chernobyl monster's mousey ear and listened to its muttering growls in response.

"...and that's the reason we're in this country, but we're down here because we were being hunted and didn't have any other choice for the moment." Aaron was speaking in his most level tone, but there was something pretty nervous about his voice. Maybe it was the hug I was giving Dimitri.

"Ruth, for God's sake, don't hug that thing!" Birdie broke apart the conversation and I looked away from Dimitri, towards him.

"Dimitri isn't a thing. He's just misunderstood."

I heard a distinct mutter of "fucking Malkavians" from pretty much everyone before they went back to their conversation.

They knew nothing. I knew Dimitri's story. Whatever was left in him that was human told me.

He'd been a plant worker during the Chernobyl meltdown.

But he didn't die when it happened, no...no, he didn't die. It was much, much worse than that for him. And about six others, or so he said. They were melted together and warped with rats and snakes as mutilated mutations, freaks of nature.

Erik was laughing as I focused on listening to the conversation.

"Boss know why you here, hunted Brujah boys, but Boss want know why you here without _gift, _especially since you bring kaputz-headed Malk childe to disrupt us"

I glanced over as Aaron and Bird took a moment to look at one another in bewilderment before huddling together to pick through their various items to find a suitable gift. After a few seconds of discussion, they looked towards me.

Nosferatu. What do Nosferatu always want, besides revenge for anything and everything? Information, favors, but they probably knew everything about anything as it was...I pulled away from Dimitri and stood up straight.

"I'll tell your fortune," I said.

"Ruth, you can't—_can_ you tell fortunes?" Aaron asked, frowning. I didn't know, but it was always worth a shot, so I nodded and looked towards the hideous thing known only as "Boss" to us. I was going to have to touch it.

I could have sworn that my skin was prickling as I got closer. "Boss" was covered in...things. Tiny, nasty, wriggling things squirming beneath patches of loose skin. Aaron and Birdie turned away in disgust as I reached out to put my hands on its slimy, sticky face. It was grinning at me, probably thinking this was pretty funny.

I know Erik thought it was. He was sniggering.

"Boss like touch of pretty girl. But do pretty girl like touch of Boss?"

I really, really wanted him to be quiet.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to imagine that I was laying hands upon my Kiwi. That the skin was as smooth and soft as an infants ass. Not that I'd been feeling up the backsides of babies lately, mind you. Was I getting anything? Some faded image or mumbling insight?

The distant voices behind my mind were laughing at me and falling silent out of spite. I silently promised them riches beyond my wildest dreams if they'd open up again.

Didn't work, but it was worth the shot.

_Come on, _I thought, _Give me something and I'll make it worth your while. I'll do whatever._

The quiet laughter became somewhat sporadic in my mind and I hid the grin. They were buying it. Of course, I hated to think of what I'd have to do to myself later to pay them...the voices...back for the information, but...eh...that was later and this was now, right? I mean, how bad could it be?

The whispers came back, muttering louder and more clearly...well...clearly to hear, not comprehend. I started echoing them out loud as fast as I could so I could get my hands away from the sticky face.

"Green..."

I could feel things crawling over my fingers.

"Burning green and a masked creature in a gray tower with yellow streaks..."

The speaking stopped. I had to pull away before I retched. I threw myself against the cold, wet, stinking sewer wall, staring at my hands, which were turning red. The skin...my skin was falling off! Curling up on my side, screaming, clutching my hands. Burning, falling, decay...bad bad bad...

And they only watched me like they'd watch a lunatic.

Part 3: Agreement, as told by Birdie

Erik translated Ruth's babbled prophecy to the boss as we watched her curl up and scream something about her hands rotting off. She'd done better than I would...like Hell would I touch that...thing for any reason.

There was silence from the Nosferatu as he considered Ruth's words before speaking in the harsh tones of Kamchactan to Erik.

"Boss says is bullshit."

"But..!"

"_But, _Boss also say pretty girl not touching him in hundred-fifty years. Boss give permission for safe passaging through his sewers. He say I to be guiding for you."

I gave a sigh of relief on the inside and looked over at Ruth. She'd apparently recovered from the psychotic episode over her hands and was back at the Chernobyl monster's side, petting its fur. I shuddered.

"Can Dimitri come?"

"NO!" Aaron and I screamed at the same time, but Erik held up a hand.

"Are many dangerous thing in deeper sewer warrens. They are to eating Kindred, no problem, but they scare of big monster beast."

"...what kind of dangerous things?" I asked. If they were bad enough to drive the Nossies to keep around this hideous attack dog, then maybe we should have stayed on the surface.

"Leftoverings."

"Leftovers...? Leftovers from what?"

"Tzimisce pets. Craft fleshing that going not like it wanting them to..."

"It? So there's just one?" Well, that wasn't a surprise. The fleshcrafters preferred to make their sick projects where other fleshcrafters couldn't steal their ideas.

"Ya, there just one, but he make many...many..." Erik paused as if trying to find the right word, "...crimes...against nature."

"Fucking Tzimisce assholes," Aaron muttered, cracking his knuckles with a half-grin on his face, "I think I could stand takin' down a couple dozen of its pets."

Erik snickered and shrugged his shoulders, "Okay, tough Brujah boy, if you are saying so. Boss says we go now."

"Where are you going to take us?"

"You want find your Kiwi?"

Ruth's eyes got big, "Kiwi! Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes..."

"You got go to big lab where he being kept."

Aaron blinked a bit, "Wait, you know where it is?"

"We are knowing everything. You think we aren't knowing when there is a big laboratory in middle of Kamchacta?"

"Er...well...alright, where is it?"

"Come, we walking and talking."

After instructing the Chernobyl monster to lead the way, Erik gestured for us to follow his shuffling gait through the sludge.


	16. Why us?

Chapter 16

Part One: Agony, as told by Christopher

I was still asleep, my wounds causing me to remain unconscious even though the sun had been down for two hours. In my dreams, there were bloody atrocities, scarring mental images, and oh so much drama. Oh God, the drama! I did_ so_ abhor it, to the heart of my very essence.

However, and thankfully, I was slowly beginning to stir from my deathly slumber, becoming slowly aware of the mingling scents of blood and grease, the sounds of my murmuring, snickering captors, and the feel of cold hands slowly reaching into my...

Oh dear Lord.

He _squeezed. _

My eyes flashed open to find the demonically grinning Marcus standing before me, hands where only Aeslehc's and my own hands had been for the past fifty years.

"I thought that would wake you up." His voice was a baneful purr as he took his hand back. As the pain in my nethers receded, I was suddenly very aware of the shocking agony in my back, as if my flesh had been sawed away. I craned my neck around to see, but couldn't quite see what had happened to me. Oh my beautiful body, what were they doing to it!

"We were out of paper and needed to send a letter to the bitch Prince. I hope you don't mind that we used your hide."

I opened my mouth to curse his very soul, but no sound came. I brought a hand to my throat to feel at...at the gaping hole that was now there... My beautiful singing voice! What reason had I now to continue in this wretched, horrible unlife? My fingers...I still had my fingers! I could continue to stroke my guitar if I were ever released from this sacrilegious bondage. But, alas, were they to destroy those, too?

"Are you crying, man? How heart wrenching." He was looking at the silver watch around his wrist, making a point to tap at it. "You know. It's been awhile since I sent her that note in your flesh... Do you suppose she's gone and forgotten about you?"

No, my Aeslehc would never forget me! Even then, I was certain that my love would come to my rescue. I lifted my nose to the evil Lasombra bastard, looking down at him through the one eye that hadn't yet swollen shut. If I were certain that it wouldn't consist of the last of what was in me, I would have spit blood at him.

He only laughed and crossed his arms across his chest and whistled loudly for the rest of the pack to join him.

There was five of them in all. Marcus was the leader, now standing between Blood, the Creole Brujah that had lured me into this trap and the Toreador named Pagan... Off to the side were the two others, a very tall and very thin Tzimisce and a Gangrel who had frenzied so much that her features had become distinctly feline.

"Well, what should we do with him?"

I wondered what was to come. Would they destroy me? Force me to join their cult? Torture me further?

To my horror, the Tzimisce approached me first and leaned up to stroke my face with the backs of her long fingers, something glittering with nothing short of malevolent interest in her green eyes.

"Let me have him, Marcus. He's absolutely useless as he is...but I can make him -better-." Her voice had something of a Scottish accent. If it weren't a conversation involving the state of my flesh and bones and whether or not they were to be molded into something else, I may have melted on the inside.

Marcus considered for a moment before nodding, the grin coming back to his face, "That sounds like a fine idea, Brae, a fine idea indeed."

Part Two: Father of a Bastard, as told by Danelle

Could nothing go right? The one Lasombra I had ever liked, if not trusted, the only _elder _that I wasn't afraid would kill me the moment he was bored of me–Henri, my _papa_, how could I ever call on him again knowing what I now knew?

I left them there and went back to my haven to soak myself in work. Christopher had been kidnaped, but I couldn't bring myself to really care. The Toreador was careless and, at any rate, Aeslehc would retrieve him. Despite the obvious trap, there wouldn't be much danger there with Henri to help her. I had no desire to face Marcus tonight. Or any night, for that matter.

I sank into the chair behind my desk and began shuffling through the papers neatly piled there. Mundane tasks, mindless things to keep me from thinking about Henri and Marcus. Damnable Keepers. I'd never trust another one so long as I continued to exist.

As I picked over various reports and the like, I looked up to find my ghoul, Alexander peering into the study.

"Miss?" The Irish boy's voice was meek. I knew he was wary when I was in these moods...after all, Irish blood is the particular vintage I like best and he felt that if he crossed me...ah, but the boy was still sweet.

"Yes, Alexander, what is it?" I forced myself to be patient with him, despite my frustration at the world in general.

He stepped in, wringing his hands almost nervously.

"What is it, Alexander?" The patience was waning from my tone. If he had nothing to say, he shouldn't be bothering me.

"You have a call, Miss." He moved closer to me, hand over the receiver.

"Unless it's Birdie or Ms. Ruth, I'm busy, Alexander; you know that..."

"It's...um...Prince England."

Bloody Hell. I sighed through my teeth and grabbed up the phone from the ghoul's grasp, waving him out with irritation before standing and setting the phone against my ear.

"This is Ms. Giancarlo."

"Good evening, Ms. Giancarlo." There was a pause, "I understand that you're having some...trouble in your city?"

Of course. He was wanting an "alliance", wasn't he? I closed my eyes and rubbed the side of my head with my free hand. Aeslehc may think that it would be a good idea, but I certainly knew better. In good conscience, I couldn't agree with her on this.

"A bit, yes, but it's nothing that we can't handle ourselves."

"Are you quite sure of that? Mr. Ogle said differently when he came back from meeting with your prince."

"She had a change of heart. My Prince is prone to such things, being who she is."

"The flighty mind of a Malkavian."

I could see where this was going. I turned my tone to a somewhat bristling one.

"Prince Aeslehc is no less capable than you or I in her place of power." Whether or not I truly believed it, I couldn't allow him to think otherwise.

"Oh, I'm quite sure." He was making an attempt to sound sincere, but the words dripped with sarcasm. Out of habit, I began to pace as I listened. "But where would she be without the Ventrue behind her, hm?"

"What are you getting at, Prince England?" As if I didn't already know what he was getting at.

"Nothing, Ms. Giancarlo, I'm just giving you something to think about. If your council changes its mind about an alliance...do let me know. Good evening."

"Good evening." There was a click on the other line and I threw the phone down against the desk before I was forced to crush it in my frustration. He was suggesting that I betray Aeslehc. Even though I _did _think that the man had a point about who truly was the better leader, I couldn't betray her like that. Anybody else, of course, without hesitation if I felt I could succeed. My reasons...my reasons were my own in that matter.

Part 3: Not Too Worried, as told by Aeslehc

Danelle had left very quickly after she found out about where Marcus got his blood from. It didn't really appear to bother Henri all that much, but he still didn't quite seem himself.

"Are we not in a hurry, Aeslehc?" He'd dropped the cheesy French accent that he did so love to use. His accent was more neutral now, with only the softer use of certain sounds to betray his nationality.

I was leaning against my desk, staring at the wall in front of me. I shook my head.

"Not particularly, no. It's just going to be a trap; I know you know that. And anyway...I'm not particularly worried about Christopher."

"You _know _what they'll do to him."

"Yes, I do." I smiled softly, "But they won't kill him. Not right away. I know that pack too well. Hell, they've been together since Kitel. Except for the two pack members they gained..."

"And the one they lost," he said, giving me a meaningful look that I returned with only a blank expression and a shrug.

"We need to go by my haven before we hit the warehouse." I picked up the sheet of flesh depicting the note as I brushed past the small man on my way out, "We need weapons. And I have to set up my new Neopets account. Your brat got my old one frozen."

Henri lifted an eyebrow before slowly following after me. He knew better than to ask why I played these games. The more they kept me happy and occupied, the better off the world would be.

"Aeslehc, I have a contact that might be able to help with the difficulties in Oklahoma City."

I nodded as we climbed into my car and tore off for my haven. "Who? And why can they help?"

"She calls herself Mia. Nobody really knows if that's herreal name or not, but it probably wouldn't be prudent to ask her... She's very...private."

"Yeah? If I'm going to deal with her, you've got to tell me more than her name and that she's private, little man."

He scoffed, muttered something about not being little where it counts, and continued, "She's a flesh-eater, Aes."

Oh wonderful! Like I didn't have enough shit piling up as it was.

"Don't give me that look, woman," He said with a scowl, drumming his fingers against the dashboard. "She's not as bad as you might expect from a Nagaraja. Actually, I'm pretty sure the two of you would probably get along, though I might avoid mentioning to her that eating flesh is reprehensible... She'd probably try to see how _you _taste..."

I glanced towards him, letting my lips twist into a broad grin.

"Aeslehc, why are—that's _not _what I meant, woman!"


	17. Flesh Monsters

Chapter 17

Part 1, Mattress friend? as told by Ruth

I was soaking wet. And I smelled like something out of a Nosferatu's sock drawer. And we weren't getting any closer. And I was hungry. And rats tasted like badness. And...and...and...

"RUTH, shuddap already!"

I stared at Aaron, who looked like he was about to scalp me and turn my hair into a pet named Lucky. Had I'd been saying that out loud? I popped my mouth shut and trudged through the mucky muck just behind Dimitri and Erik. Birdie and Aaron were bringing up the rear. What a convoy! I suddenly felt all special.

So far we hadn't really seen any of the creatures and failed experiments he'd talked about, although we occasionally heard strange noises from other warrens and pipes. Then again, sound would probably travel pretty far in that kind of place so we couldn't know just how close they were. I suspected that Dimitri and Erik probably knew, but neither were talking if they did.

"Where exactly are we going to come out at?" Birdie asked. I sensed a distinct pause before Erik answered him. Five minutes of a pause, to be exact.

"In a dangerous place, but you are wanting to get to laboratory, yes?"

"Yes.." Birdie sounded suspicious, "Where is this going to put us?"

Erik put a hand on Dimitri's shoulder, like a cautious man would lay a hand over the butt of his upholstered gun. Did that mean...?

"We're going to come up on the Tzimisce's territory, aren't we?" I asked grimly, shoving my filthy hands into the soaking wet pockets of my jeans...what was the lump I just touched? I pulled it from my pocket and tossed it unceremoniously without looking to see what it was.

"We can take a fucking Tzimisce." I heard Aaron crack his knuckles for emphasis.

"We can always blow it to Hell," Birdie added.

"We don't have any explosives left, Bird... But still, how hard could it be?"

"Er. You've never fought one before, have ya?"

By now, Birdie and Aaron had stopped. I turned around to watch them. I felt Erik join me at my side, along with Dimitri, who was nuzzling my elbow.

"We keep going, Brujah boys, you can be arguing while we walk, yes?" Erik's tone was impatient; he kept glancing over his shoulder.

We kept walking. Aaron and Birdie had begun to bicker; I tuned them out and instead spoke to Erik.

"Yeah, so you didn't answer me...is that where we're coming out?"

"Tzimisce is making his haven in the district of red lights; that is where you are to coming out, yes. And is no other kindred in district besides his partner and blood bounded girls that is working for him."

I blinked, "Working for him?"

"Is pimp." He eyed my shocked expression for a moment, "Is liking pretty young thing with the blonde hairs, I am thinking. You are be careful or you are being mattress friend for much money."

It took me a moment, but I understood.

Part Two, The Monsters, as told by Birdie

"Now wait just a damn minute!" Aaron quickened his pace to catch up to Erik. I saw him reach out to grab the Nosferatu's arm, but quickly rethink the action, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Ain't no Tzimisce going to be a freakin' pimp."

"I don't speak wrongly, Brujah boy." He shrugged his bony shoulders, "Who is knowing why it sells girls?"

"So the red light district is, what...Sabbat territory?" I asked.

"Not that I is knowing of and I know everything. Tzimisce there don't like Sabbat, don't like Camarilla. He is liking himself, I am thinking."

"Well, that makes a little more sense." I said, "I mean, the Sabbat Tzimisce are weird about mortals, even ghouls and stuff. But if he's Independent..."

"We might have a chance in Hell, then." Both of Aaron's hands slid into the pockets of his jacket and he watched the damp piping ahead of us.

"Maybe, but first we having to get past the creepying crawly pet toys before his domain." Erik quickened his pace. He was obviously unnerved. I wondered just what kinds of things we were about to come into—

Erik stopped, arms out. He looked back at us with an expression that said, without saying, "Shut the Hell up". He gave a one-armed motion to the Chernobyl creature to lumber out ahead. I pulled out my gun and Aaron moved his hands free of his pockets. The distant, dripping water continued in the background, undisturbed, but there was a new sound now. A scratching noise came from all around. Aaron and I kept our backs to Erik and Ruth's to watch for anything coming up behind us. The noises continued, but so far we'd seen nothing entirely out of the ordinary. There was another scratching, closer this time, and something skittered through the water up ahead of Ruth and Erik. I turned in time to see the Chernobyl beast roar in fury and lunge at a hulking shape...

Erik had gone invisible, Obfuscating and becoming camouflage against the brick piping. Ruth stopped walking and stood nonplused, staring at the thing that the Chernobyl beast was now fighting.

It was...or had been, at one time, a vampire. Now it was nothing more than a mass of conjoined flesh and bone. Its stomach was bloated and torn open, held together with laced fingers that made it look like something was trying to come out. It had four clawed legs...or arms...arms for legs that made it scuttle like a quick spider. It was like watching a pregnant woman trying to crab walk...but doing a frighteningly good job of it. It had two heads fused together into one, four eyes and two noses, but no mouth on its face.

God...I hated Tzimisce. What was it thinking when it created this thing?

Our own beast, being stockier and actually having teeth to speak of, made fairly quick work of this first monster, tearing into it without much trouble. Blood sprayed into its fur before the once-vampire dissolved into ash.

"Are there...a lot of those?" I asked the invisible Erik.

"Sometimes. I am thinking Tzimisce was try to making something particular... These not much danger by aloneness because no mouth, but have nasty claws."

His voice came from somewhere to my left and up ahead, but I couldn't be sure.

"Shhhh." He said. I barely heard the sound of drifting water as he moved further ahead to join his creature.

"Dimitri doesn't like the killing." Ruth said quietly, folding her arms across her chest. If we weren't careful, she'd take the killing into her own hands...and get her head clawed off in the process, most likely. She started walking closer to Dimitri and the concealed Erik; I just hoped the fleshcrafted monsters didn't start coming en masse.

"Bird, watch our backs. I'll make sure she don't get herself killed." Aaron spoke in a low voice before moving up to walk beside Ruth. I checked my ammo, made sure the gun was loaded, and glanced over my shoulder as I moved. Nothing behind us. Yet.

Part 3, The Pain, as told by Ruth

More of the brutal creations kept coming out of the hidden pipes, some looking like the first, some looking drastically different. One looked almost normal until it unhinged its jaw and attempted to swallow Dimitri whole.

It had dropped to all fours, moving awkwardly because of the length of its legs. Dimitri was wounded already; the fighting was taking a lot out of him, I could see. Poor Dimitri. I had to help him. The second I saw that thing stretch open its jaw, making snappy cracking noises as the bones rearranged, I lunged. I heard Aaron scream something...something...but I'd already moved and the thing was already beneath me. It looked like it was yawning.

I yawned back and sunk my aching fangs into its face.

As they tore through the pale, shrieking face, I felt like scissors were cutting along my chin, neatly up through my cheek and towards my eyes. Pain...white hot, red pain, yellow, silver..._black _pain!

The colors shifted in and out until they settled on the vague red haze that coated everything in blood...

I gave in and let the frenzy ride. With pleasure.

Part 3.5, as told by Aaron

"Shit!" Goddamn Malkavian. She'd gone...what...three whole nights without a fucking frenzy? I should've know it was too good to be true. But at least she was doing some serious damage..._Impressively _serious damage, actually. Ruth was bleeding herself, but she tore through the monster like it was nothing. Absolutely nothing!

Birdie jogged up to my side and watched silently, holding the gun to his side.

"Er...so...do we let her ride this one out?"

"I'm thinkin' so, Bird. Save our ammo for the Tzimisce."

"I'm telling you, this measly little gun ain't gonna do shit..."

"Save it; it's better than nothing, right?"

Birdie was good in a fight as long as he had some firepower, but he wasn't much use when it came to melee or unarmed combat.

"What're you trying to say, Aaron?"

"Nothin', Bird, I just meant that you're good with a gun."

"Yeah, but you're saying that I can't fight worth shit otherwise, aren't you?"

"Look, don't get all defensive on my ass, man."

"Brujah boys!" The presence that was Erik was somewhere close by and he didn't sound all that happy, "Make time later for pissing contest, busying right now."

Hated to admit it, but he was right...


	18. Bloody Frustrations

Chapter 18

Part One, The Nagaraja Lair, as told by Aeslehc

The flesh-eater made her home in the basement of a rather sizable Methodist church. Contrary to popular belief, most vampires aren't particularly adverse to "hallowed ground", making churches amazingly convenient places to make havens.

I wasn't about to ask where she got her meals, though, and contented myself to feign looking impressed about the fact that there was a kitchen next to the choir room.

We made our way through the almost maze-like interior of the 50's style church, past the kitchen/choir room, past a miniature stage and theater, down another flight of stairs. This was an area of the church that I assumed most of the good, pious churchgoers never saw. It was a little dusty and falling apart in some areas, but remained structurally sound enough to hold up the still-kept part of the building above.

"Doing alright, Aeslehc?" Henri murmured. Some people just aren't under the impression that I do well in "holy" settings. I waved the question away and nodded. Jeeze, I wasn't _evil..._

We ended up stepping down into a sunken living-area sort of place. It was made of the same marble as the rest of the floors in the church, but covered with a simple red carpet. A pair of chairs sat to our left, a desk with computer to our right. Aside from that and a door directly in front of us, there was nothing else there...

"Do we sit and wait for her to..."

"You'll be doing no sitting."

The voice came from over our shoulders. Had the Nagaraja been following us? I squared myself for what I might see upon turning around...

And I blinked.

I had never come into contact with a flesh-eater before. The image I had of them was...quite different than the woman we now saw before us. For one thing, she wasn't covered in blood. She had a small amount soaked into the sleeves of her denim jacket, but nothing besides... There wasn't anything particularly _gruesome _about this woman. I could much more easily picture those dark eyes peering at me from over a cup of espresso than from over a half-eaten human heart.

She walked past us, reaching up to pull the dark blue band from her brown hair and letting it fall, shaking it out a little bit. When she turned back around, she began to give me a once over before looking to Henri.

"You can stand there all night, saying nothing, or you can tell me why you're trespassing and I _might _let you sit down."

The flesh-eater..._Mia_ put a hand on her hip and waited with all the patience of a hungry wolf, the slightest of smiles creeping onto her face.

I let Henri do the honors; I had no idea what this woman could offer us besides a delicious rack of human. He stepped forward and offered to take her hand, which he genteelly kissed.

"Mademoiselle," he murmured, "Allow me to introduce you to Prince Aeslehc of Del City... she is 'aving some troubles as of late..."

He'd adopted the cheesy accent again, but it seemed to please the Nagaraja, as the smile on her face broadened somewhat.

"I'm listening," She said

"I know of your gifts of death... We were wondering per'aps if you might 'elp us create a diversion..."

"A diversion?" She mused over the aspect for a moment, "Who is involved and what's in it for me?"

"A Sabbat pack and... a night wiz me." He gave a cocky smile.

She took her hand back and set it back on her hip with a flat expression, "_You, _little man, smell like a sock. Just because I don't dust much doesn't mean I'd like to wallow in filth."

"Believe it or not," I said, "He's had a bath lately..."

I couldn't decide if Henri was trying to act hurt or what, but he grinned lecherously and stepped back next to me, looping an arm around my shoulders.

"What about '_er_?" He asked, jerking his head in my direction. I lifted my eyebrows and stared at him for a long moment before looking back to Mia, who had stepped towards me.

"She smells good, which is more than I can say for you. Cuter, too. But I don't take payment in the form of pleasure. I want cash."

"We can do zat, too."

Part 2, The Horror, as told by Christopher.

I was pulled from the hook and dropped unceremoniously to the ground. The bolt that held my hands together was slowly and agonizingly wrenched from my flesh, leaving yet another gaping aperture through which poured what precious little blood remained in my body. All physical energy and will to struggle had left my broken husk and now my eyes were searching for any available opportunities for that _one_ last option before I had to endure this final agonizing torment.

But, I thought, what of when Aeslehc comes to save me? If she should walk through the warehouse doors with blazing eyes but a moment after I had ended my existence...oh how tragic that would be. The thought was almost appealing, in its own quaint little way. Romeo and Juliet was simply so overdone, but...

A hand pulling back on my hair brought me out of my dazed reverie. I could barely see who it was, but the fingers were too long to have been any but the Fiend who had taken an interest in me. She hauled me up, forcing me to stand, held only by her thin hands. Looking upon her, really the only hints at her clan were the unnatural hands and almost alien way that she was looking at me. I was quivering, whether or not I cared to admit it. A young Tzimisce, one who had not yet shaped themself into something unrecognizable, was almost worse than an elder Tzimisce... their crafts unrefined and brutal, their opinion of suffering and revulsion as sheer entertainment. I suppose it was _possible _to have exceptions to the rule, but...

"I'm going to have to fix your pretty singing voice," She said, running her fingers across my hollowed-out throat, "It wouldn't do to not be able to hear your screams."

...she was, apparently, _not _an exception to the rule.

Her fingers tightened on my hair and she began to walk towards a cleared-off workbench. The movement jerked me forward, stumbling after her. The wrenching pain throughout my body forced me to my knees half-way there. Frowning, she turned and looked down at me.

"Ugh, so weak. How long will you last for me, hm? Blood! Lend me a hand."

I was hauled up, once again by my hair, and was pulled over the filthy, cold gray floor before being thrown against the table and pushed up on top of it. My wounds were screaming for blood to heal them. It occurred to me that I could feed their healing and allow myself to slip into Torpor before the torture could truly begin... I began to let what was left inside of me flow into the more painful mutilations, red and black seeping into my eyes as the pain and my consciousness began to ebb.

"Trying to escape? Now I can't have that." Her voice was a barely distant whisper. A cold hand clamped down upon my jaw, prying it open with insistent force. The most foul-tasting cold blood poured down my throat, some pooling through the open wound there, barely enough dribbling into the rest of my body to keep me conscious. She continued to pour, forcing me slowly back into full awareness before finally stopping. "It's always better when you're wide awake..."

She pressed her talons into my throat, pulling the cords and flesh and muscle back into place with slow deliberation. Once the vocal cords were in place again, she set about her work...

I could hear her chuckling...laughing...see her smiling, enjoying herself...over the piercing agony of my own screams.

Part 3, It's not productive to bash your head against the wall, but damn if it doesn't feel like the right thing to do, as told by Danelle.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Each time my head made contact with the gritty brick wall, a cut would form. And each time I pulled back to bring my head forward again, the cut would heal. Thunk. Why. Thunk. Me? Thunk. Why couldn't Aes have a competent lineage that wouldn't have let Kiwi get himself caught? Thunk. Why couldn't Marcus just burn in Hell? Thunk. Why didn't Henri _tell _me? Thunk. Why was Oklahoma City run by pricks and assholes? THUNK.

What else could possibly go wrong? My head rested against the wall and I considered the events of the past weeks. When put in perspective, things could have been worse. Much worse. For instance, the pack in our city could have been any pack besides Marcus's and any pack besides Marcus's would probably have already burned Del City to the ground. Given that information, they were probably acting on their own to get at...but wait...why would they be wanting to get at Aeslehc? As far as I knew, the two didn't have any history besides the attacks that went on between Marcus and myself that Aeslehc occasionally had to intercept in the old days. Surely he wouldn't be going after her for that? I stepped away from the wall and wiped the blood from my woundless scalp, frowning in puzzlement. And wouldn't he have been more concerned about coming after me like he usually was? And Henri, since he obviously knew that he was in town now? I turned around and sunk against the wall, head tilted, a frown on my face.

Why didn't anything make sense? Unless my dear Malkavian prince was also keeping something from me. True, I didn't know anything of her past before meeting her for the first time just under a century before. Then again, I could have said that she didn't know much of mine, either, but there wasn't much of a past for me when we met. I was young, yes, but my conscious thought had closed itself off to most earlier memories of my unlife, save for the occasional snapshots of a handful of people and a burning city. What wouldn't Aeslehc have been telling me?

It didn't matter, I decided, straightening and stepping away from the wall and moving back to my desk again. I had work to do, and a lot of it. A Ventrue doesn't interrupt her duties to sulk and reminisce.

But what to start with? The most pressing matter was being handled by Aeslehc and Henri; it worried me somewhat that Birdie hadn't reported back to me recently, but I assumed they, too, were handling themselves; that left the issue with the treacherous Oklahoma City.

It wasn't an issue I was inexperienced with, at least.


	19. Out of the frying pan

(_Thanks to my sweet sister for the advice on bolding the separate parts!_)

Chapter 19

**Part 1: Light at the End of the Tunnel, as told by Birdie**

We cut through the ugly creations as they thickened in the tunnels and pipes, some looking the exact same as the first, others completely different, but just as repulsive. One common characteristic was that none of the creatures had any _mouth _to speak of and the implications of that were both disturbing and...well..._fucking _disturbing.

We'd come to the decision that, upon coming up to the surface in the Tzimisce's territory, we would have two choices. A.) We could try to go straight through unannounced and run the risk of royally pissing the Fiend off and having it come or send minions after us, or B.) We could take advantage of the fact that Tzimisce were unfailingly polite to announced and invited guests and make ourselves and our reasons for going through known, although it could probably still find reason to kill, maim, mutilate, or make experiments out of us. We decided that option B, while not the least bit appealing, stood a better chance of getting us out alive. At least if we were considered guests of the creature, Magnolia wouldn't be able to attack us in that domain if she didn't want to be pursued to the ends of the earth by a put-out fleshcrafter. As long as we could get and stay on its good side...

Ruth had come down from her frenzy and now stood stock-still in the sludge of blood and floating gore. She was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like song lyrics...something from Drowning Pool or Korn, maybe. I couldn't really tell.

"...nothing wrong with me." She grumbled. Aaron was pulling her out of the body soup, ushering us further along behind Erik as he continued to lead the way. The Chernobyl monster was limping very noticeably; one of the nasty creatures had gotten its wicked talons into it enough to tear out a good chunk of flesh, but it kept moving.

"Not long we go now," The Nosferatu noted as we came to a split in the tunnels and he took the left. This was a dead end with a step and door at the far right side. "You swim, yes?"

Er. _Swim? _I looked down into the "water" that was soaked into my pantlegs...We were going to have to _swim _in this shit?

"Oh _fuck _no!" Aaron said, grimacing. Erik gave us a flat look.

"No choice. You swim across, coming out at surface pipes."

"And then we'll be able to get to the street again?" Ruth asked hopefully. If the thought of swimming through shit-water bothered her at all, she wasn't showing it.

Erik nodded slowly as he pulled on the door and left it swinging open for us. I glanced to Aaron, who was cursing under his breath and then to Ruth, who was being perfectly silent for once.

"You're bein' awfully calm about this, Ruth..."

In one, breathless voice, she replied, "We're almost to my Kiwi,"

**Part 2: Into the Sludge, as told by Aaron**

Had to hope that Tzimisce didn't mind stinky guests, 'cause there weren't no way we were going to come out of this shithole smelling like roses.

Erik lead us through the door, probably put there by Kamchactan utilities people so they could have an easy way of keeping tabs on the sewer. The room on the other side was half-full of water from past floods that never got mopped, so apparently the utilities people weren't worth their weight in shit.

Bird looked pretty damn sick as we stepped into the room. His eyes followed a fat and rotted corpse as it floated by, one of the huge sewer rats perched on its chest. I don't think the dead bodies were what was bothering him. It was what they floated in that made him sick. The goopy, mucky, fucking nasty water...

And we were going to swim through it to get to the other side.

"In you go, crazy girl, Brujah boys."

"Wait," Ruth mumbled, running back out into the tunnel, where the Chernobyl creature sat. She _hugged _the nasty thing, whispered something none of us really heard, and came back.

Erik stood back, leaning against the wall. I lifted an eyebrow to him.

"...you ain't comin?"

He shook his head.

"You find way now. Go, go. Is not hard. Through break on other side, crawling through pipe, out through ladder."

There was a broken spot in the wall behind the far platform where we could see the sharp edges of a smashed pipe. Birdie started to protest, but before more than two words got out of his mouth, Ruth had already gone and jumped in. I smirked and rolled my eyes.

"Yea, okay. Thanks, man."

Erik nodded. Birdie was standing at the edge of the platform with a disgusted expression. I put my hand flat against the smaller man's back, gave a firm shove, and sent him, cursing my name, into the murky water.

"Ya know, Erik, you ain't bad for a..." But he was gone already. I shook my head and followed after Bird and Ruth.

It was a slow swim, given the thickness of the sludge. Skinny as he was, Bird ended up on the far end after me and Ruth were already up there.

"Ready to go?" I asked

"Er..."

"...Kiwi..."

"A little further, Ruth. We still gotta meet with...ugh...the Tzimisce and hope he don't decide we'd make good experiments or pets or something."

"...yeah." Again, she went first, crawling into the pipe, which angled upward just slightly and looked like it went for quite awhile. Bird went behind her; I followed.

Saying it went for "quite awhile" was a fucking understatement. It took us 30 goddamn minutes on our hands and knees before we finally go out into the surface tunnel that had street access.

"There's the ladder Ugly told us about..." I said.

Birdie frowned, "Yeah, so...guess all that's left is meeting that...er...yeah."

We stood, watching the ladder as if hoping it would vanish.

Ruth glanced between us, drumming her fingers against her leg.

"I ain't afraid of no Tzimisce, Bird."

"Yeah? Neither am I."

"Alright, then. Good. Get on up there."

"First?"

"Yeah. It's your friggin' turn to go first."

"Ruth can go first."

She actually started towards the ladder, but I grabbed her shoulder to hold her back, getting a strange look in the process.

"If somethin's up there...and I ain't saying anything is...but if there _is _and Ruth gets fuckin' butchered, don't you think Aes'd be kinda pissed? An' who's gonna get it worse? You or me, Mr. Primogen?"

"Er. Good point. Yeah." Birdie hesitated a little longer before heading over to the ladder and very slowly beginning to climb. At the top, he looked back down at us, waiting until we gathered at the bottom of the ladder to reach up and push aside the manhole.

**Part 3: Enter Sinead, as told by Ruth**

A rush of air from the street above swept down into the heavy warmth around us as Birdie pushed away the heavy, metal cover. There wasn't anything up there that we could see, not even the occasional roving pedestrian. Things looked free and clear for now.

The ladder took us up into an alley, behind piles of garbage in and around a pair of gigantic blue dumpsters.

Once we were out, Birdie made a face, but said nothing.

"What now...?" Aaron asked.

"We...uh...have to find where it lives." Birdie replied, stepping around a pile of garbage.

"No problem," I said, peeking my head from the alley to glance out at the street, "We just have to ask one of the whores!"

They seemed everywhere... There was two to each corner and this place...this place really overdid it on the corners. A street and complimenting cracked sidewalk wrapped around every building.

"Don't look now," Birdie said, "But one's comin' towards us."

She was barely five feet tall, with a meaty kind of figure. Her breasts were scrunched so tightly within her black and red corset that they practically touched her chin. It was like a fleshy shelf. Aaron and Birdie's eyes were glued to it.

"OW! Goddamn, Ruth, what the fuck was that for?" Aaron winced and stepped away from me, holding onto his gut.

"Oh, sorry...didn't see you there. Just stretching my arms."

"Oooh, Americans..." The whore drew our attention back, our expressions showing shock at the light Irish accent coming out of her. "Strange that you'd be comin' out of nowhere like that..."

"We're...er..." Birdie feigned clearing his throat and looked to Aaron.

"...tourists."

The whore nodded with a lifted eyebrow, "Oh, is that so? You're awfully smelly for tourists..." She shrugged, "Well..._tourists..._you'll be wantin' to visit the three-level theater down the road. Call it the visitor's center."

A smirk snaked onto her face and she folded her arms across her impressive chest. Out of curiosity, I allowed my perception to enhance, using Auspex.

Not only did I see the wavering paleness of her aura...

But I saw something that...I _really _did not want to see.

I yelped and slapped my hands over my mouth, closing my eyes and forcing my enhanced senses back to normal.

"GodnonoGodewohGodnotanotheronesouglyIdontlikeitgetitaway..."

The meaty whore was something else entirely underneath... She was squat and deformed, covered in boils, oozing puss. Puss. Death. She smelled of death. Something was very wrong with her. Nosferatu. Worse than the sewers. Oh God. Warmth spread down my cheeks. Burst, gaping, flesh wounds. One arm. No eyes. Eyes? No good.

"Ruth!" Distant voices, cries, whispers, "God... Sorry about—holy shit."

I couldn't see but they could see could they see they could see now oh yes...

"It's rude to look beneath the mask, you know." She was close. My ears? My mind. She was in my mind! "When you get to the theater, tell them Sinead sent you."

Whimpering. Emptiness. Air.

She was gone.

I looked up from where I was now crouched amongst the garbage, up to my waist in dead food. My face was sore and, as I looked down at my hands, apparently bleeding. I'd been clawing at myself?

"Christ, Ruth!" Aaron stepped over a fat plastic bag to offer a hand to me.

"At least she didn't go after anybody else that time..." Birdie mumbled with a grim tone.

"And keep your goddamn Auspex to yourself next time!"

Aaron hauled me out of the garbage as I felt my face healing itself.

"C'mon, we gotta get going. Jeeze, a theater..." He shook his head, "Are we dealin' with a Tzimisce or a fucking Toreador?"


	20. Tribulations

E. Chapter 20

**Part One, The Horde, as told by Aeslehc**

"Henri, I am going to _kill_ you."

"What did you think I meant when I said 'gifts of death', eh?" He looked up at me blandly, arms folded across his chest. I closed my eyes, gave a useless breath, and turned back around to face the clutch of zombies that continued to crawl from their graves. Zombies...there were always problems when I got around zombies. Or when zombies got around _me._

"Holy shit! I know her!" To the untrained ear, merely a groan. Specifically, "Unng maaah eeeggrrrrrrr". Zombies and their decayed vocal cords, right?

They were lumbering towards me as they rose. I glanced at them uncertainly before slipping around behind Henri.

"...they're coming after me, Henri."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"They're _talking about me_, Henri." I crouched down a little bit.

He turned to look up at me with a knitted brow and smirk twisting tightly over his lips. I knew what he was thinking. Goddamn, I could read it on his face. Aw, is the little Malkavian having zombie troubles?

"Isn't that the chick who torched your house?"

"_Yeah_, I think it is! You killed me, you crazy bitch!"

"HENRI!"

"Shush, Aeslehc." He turned and gave me a pat on the shoulder as my eyes blazed towards the approaching zombie horde. When he turned his attention back towards them, the zombies were so unnervingly close that Henri began to believe me. "...Mia?"

She was standing nearby, calling to the legions of undead and bidding them rise from their graves, and had pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head, giving her a sort of modern-day old necromancer sort of feel. Her eyes were closed beneath the shading hood, for concentration purposes and, I suspected, to give a bigger impression. God, the groundskeeper was going to have a field day trying to explain the empty cemetery in the morning.

"She's got to pay, man! We'll eat her brains!"

"BRAINS!"

Nothing scares anyone living or dead, sane or insane, like the thought of having their brain eaten.

"Aeslehc, for the love of God, get off of me, woman!"

I was hugging onto Henri's head and trying to climb up onto his shoulders...You'd have done the same in my situation, I assure you.

"Aeslehc—MMmmf!" I wrapped my arms around his head.

"Henri..." Hands were reaching for me...cold, cold hands. They wrapped around me and pulled me off of the little man, letting me fall to the ground with a gruff whine and a light growl. When I opened my eyes to look up, I was being held down...but not by cold zombie hands. Long, thick tendrils of darkness were coiled around my limbs and keeping me rooted to the spot. "Henri!"

"Aeslehc, shush." He shot me a glance and made a flippant motion with his hand. At that, the tendrils loosened enough to let me sit up, but wouldn't let me go any further than that. Damn Lasombra and their shadows...

I could see him speaking with Mia, her eyes now open and her hood pulled back down to reveal her face again. She nodded quickly and added to the conversation before lifting her arms and commanding the zombies to pay attention to her. They obeyed and turned from me. Only then did the shadowy bonds release me completely.

I rose and stalked towards Henri, growling. He merely looked up at me guilelessly and spread his hands in a gesture of innocence, "I did what I 'ad to."

"Never." I prodded him in the chest, "_Never_ use those things on me...outside the bedroom, little man."

Henri only grinned.

**The Horde, Part Two...still told by Aeslehc**

We'd sorted out my dilemma with the lumbering undead and now approached the address I'd been directed to from the note in Christopher's flesh. With a sort of detached interest, I wondered just what they'd done to him so far. Knowing Marcus...just about anything. The man reputedly had a Caligula-like fascination with creating fresh orifices in the human form and buggering them until they weren't quite so fresh anymore. I shuddered to think what he might do in his spare time were he a Tzimisce.

And now, a new problem arose in my consciousness:

An army of zombies wandering down the middle of the street is definitely not conducive to upholding the Masquerade.

"Henri..." I began, but he lifted a hand and gestured to the floating darkness that seemed to follow us. It would keep us hidden from the view of passersby. It seemed the little shadow master already had a handle on things.

The warehouse was a fat thing among grass and concrete, much of the dry weeds overgrown and making cracks in the very foundation of the building. There were windows, but said windows had been long-ago boarded up to keep out the strays and homeless. Henri, Mia, and I stood back about two hundred feet from the building, letting the zombies stray ahead of us, advancing forward like brainless shock troops.

**Part 2, The Bloody Rite, as told by Christopher**

I could not see through the veil of red and black hazing over my eyes. My skin had been grafted to destroy my eyesight. Once beautiful blue eyes never to be seen or appreciated ever again! I couldn't feel my hair but for that which had fallen at my feet, pulled out in tufts and tossed so unceremoniously against the ground. What manner of existence is to exist without beauty? Oh God, why! If I could have cried, I would have, but my tear ducts, too, had been mutilated and destroyed beneath the talons of the evil creature known as Brae, the "woman" who had left me to contemplate my new condition, but with no method of doing a thing about it. My arms– four now, two moving independently of my own original limbs–were cuffed together and once more I hung from a hook in the ceiling. My bare feet could barely feel the soft remains of my angel-golden hair making a thin layer over the frozen concrete floor. And to make it all so very worse...all the more horrific..._I. Had. No. Ears. _The agony of the very thought of no longer being a creature of aesthetic and aural beauty forced a scream from my body that quickly died in the muted wail of a man gone deaf.

I felt the quicksilver talons of the Tzimisce run against the flesh of my bare stomach, tearing it open. Long had I been quite nearly immune to the pain. Long...long...how long had I been in this state? How long...waiting...Ah waiting...Would my dear, precious love Aeslehc rescue me now? Useless things were pulled from me amid the hot burst of the remaining rat and dog blood they'd been feeding my starving beast. Further weakening, I whimpered softly and opened my mouth like a hungry babe waiting expectantly to be fed something...anything...

As expected, the cool, metallic chalice touched my lips again, the blood pouring down my throat and tasting, feeling, seeming...somehow..._different. _

As I dangled helplessly, the pack had come back together again and held a ceremony barely feet away. I knew not what was said, what intricate, demonic, Satan-worshiping ritual they had underwent...but the outcome had been that the assembled lot of evil creatures had each spilled a bit of blood into the chalice. They were forcing upon me their unholy Vaulderie, the Viniculum... the only true binding force in the Sabbat. The commingled blood served to bind the group as one. And I, a paragon of Camarilla loyalty, was now partaking as if one of the pack! The very thought!

But I had no thought. As I drowned myself in as much of the blood as I could before it was taken away again, I had no notion in my mind besides that of quelling the beast and the hunger within.

**Part 3, Friendly Neighbors, as told by Danelle**

Only in Oklahoma could one gain an audience with not one, but two princes in a matter of hours. D.M. and Nicole, the princes of Choctaw and Norman sat before me, comfortable in the velvet arm chairs of the meeting room provided for my purposes.

The prince of Choctaw was a short man with young eyes and brown hair. To call him plain would be both an understatement and a stretch. He couldn't stand out alone and he certainly couldn't stand out in a crowd...for better or for worse. However, a fairly certain and strange rumor was that the Brujah and Toreador had fought over him for the Embrace some 76 years ago. He was a martial artist...the Brujah wanted him for his passion and fighting gift; the Toreador wanted him for his sheer grace of movement. Somehow, the Toreador won the battle and got to him first. Every move he made, even the simple act of crossing his legs or gesturing during conversation was done with enhanced and impeccable grace.

Norman's prince was of my blood and, thankfully, a far more reasonable Ventrue than the damnable prince who held onto the state's capital. She was a bit harder to get hold of than Prince D. M., though, simply for the fact that she was constantly busy and finding a meeting time was all but impossible. As luck would have it, though, she had an hour to spare due to a mistake in scheduling on the part of one of her ghouls. I either had a higher power or karma or sheer luck to thank. Or perhaps simply an absent-minded ghoul.

"I understand you're having some trouble?" Nicole was the first to speak, her tone concerned, but searching. D.M. merely watched me in silence as I stood before them with my fingers steepled.

"Some is a bit of an understatement, Prince. It seems that my city..."

D.M. cleared his throat to gently cut me off, "It's actually more of a suburb..."

"He's right, you know," Nicole added, "Technically Del City is only part of Oklahoma City."

"People continue to remind us..." I murmured , "But the usual dilemma isn't why I've asked to meet with you." They nodded for me to go on. I started from the beginning and explained that half of the city/suburb's governing officials were overseas at the moment; Prince England was acting more shady than usual in his suggestions that I betray Aeslehc, in addition to his having hired some snotty dhampir to attempt to keep the plan in Kamchacta from coming to a head _despite_ the fact that its success or failure wouldn't affect him either way.

I ended the story with the description of Marcus's pack in the city, omitting the theory that they weren't here to take things over. The suggestion that they might be attempting a take-over of any area near Choctaw or Norman would cause the princes worry...and would make them more apt to lend a hand should the need arise.

Nicole leaned forward to lift her still-full refreshment from the coffee table before them, the blood in the glass lapping lightly at the sides as she brought it to her lips and set it back down again.

"Well, then, Ms. Giancarlo," She said softly, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief, "How do you propose we deal with this?"


	21. And Into the Fire

Chapter 21

**Part One, the Theater, as told by Birdie**

The theater was something of a surprise, though it's hard to figure why, looking back and considering that it was in the red-light district. It was the tallest building around and had only a single screen which played various pornos. We could hear the distorted moaning from beyond the box office, where we stood. A man was in the glass ticket booth, watching us with disinterest and looking thoroughly bored.

After a brief exchange with Aaron, we decided it'd be my job to talk to the guy.

"Er." I paused as he blew a bubble, letting it pop noisily, "We're tourists and..."

"For threeing of yous, coming to ten English dollarmonies." His voice was far more disinterested than he looked.

"No, we don't want to see a movie. Er..." Goddamn, what was that chunky whore's name? "Oh...Sinead sent us."

A half-blown bubble died on the man's lips before being sucked back into his mouth. He pushed a stiff, white business card through the space in the glass. There was a rich, red Z practically sewn into it. Given the heritage of the individual we were here to see, I wasn't all that curious about what went into making it.

"Third upstairs," His voice was low, "Show card, anyone ask question. Go now."

I held the card between my middle and forefingers and turned to shrug at Aaron and Ruth before we entered the theater-building as a group.

The movie-area was only in the front half. The rest of the building was, after that first moment of initial shock, pretty obviously a brothel. The bottom floor was only a lounge, but we could still hear (and in some cases _see_) the signs of passionate sex. The second floor probably held the rooms, but we didn't stop to check up on that theory. The screaming was enough to convince us.

The third floor was no more than a perfectly white hallway and door. The simplicity actually put me on edge just a little.

"Ya wanna knock on the door, pal?" Aaron asked, giving me a light shove towards it.

"No, not really. I talked to the ticket-booth guy."

Aaron rolled his eyes and stepped towards the door, gave a hearty knock, and stepped back again.

"I really don't want that door to open," I admitted under my breath.

But it did.

The man on the other side was only human, although he bulged with muscles that Aaron, fairly built himself, could only dream of. He grunted something in Kamchactan that we took to mean something along the lines of, "The fuck do you want?".

Aaron gestured for me to hand him the card. After I did, and it was shown, the man at the door gave a quick nod and showed us inside.

"Man..." Aaron mumbled, "I wanna be a fuckin' pimp..."

It was a particularly small office and the decor was mostly white, aside from the beige carpet and mahogany upholstery, but...damn it was fancy.

The desk and chairs were made of what looked like handcrafted polished ivory, strange monsters carved into them with perfect precision. I swear to God, I expected the chairs to come to life and begin twisting and snarling at us. The carpet was the softest-looking stuff I'd ever seen– kind of along the lines of silk tendrils. I felt a little odd about walking on it. Everything else in the room, from the bookcase built into the wall, to the pinkish lampshades, to the golden thread woven into the very wallpaper...screamed elegance, sophistication, and something I couldn't quite place.

"I see you appreciate my office decor."

The voice came from just over our shoulders as a door that we hadn't seen upon entering was slowly pushed open. It was deep and a somewhat richer Eastern European accent than we'd heard here so far, but with better English.

"It's great." I said honestly.

"Why thank you. I made everything myself."

Elegance, sophistication, and death.

**Part Two, Tzimisce Hospitality, as told by Ruth**

I thought it was a woman at first. I mean, who wouldn't? The vampire we turned to meet as it came into the room was so far beyond androgynous that...well...I don't know, but _damn. _

He was at least a foot and a half taller than me, probably more. Like almost everything else around here, he was white from head to toe. Everything from the long hair that stopped at the sudden, exaggerated edge of his hipbones to the almost-cliche fur coat folded neatly over one arm. Everything but his huge eyes, which could be pretty much described best as alien green.

"Please..." He extended a seven-fingered hand towards the extra chairs as he draped the coat over the back of his own, "Do sit down."

The souls trapped inside every once-living or..._still_...living thing in the room were screaming their protests at me. I hesitated long enough to allow the guys to sit down in the only two extra seats while they refused to hear the wails of the bone and flesh-crafted furniture.

As I pushed the thought of the trapped souls away...or tried to, anyway...and came to stand behind Aaron and Birdie, I had to wonder if anyone had ever tried to steal a Tzimisce's dirt. A random thought, especially considering the fact that there wasn't a speck of dust in the whole damn room. But seriously, had anyone tried it? I knew Tzimisce were so obsessed with homeland and tradition that they had to sleep with their dirt from back home, but what would happen if the dirt went away? Would he wither? Go crazy? Then again, I doubted any Tzimisce would let anyone get close enough to their haven to test that prank's potential. Still, though. I filed that little thought away for later.

"My name is Zillah Vysana..." He began.

"Zillah." I muttered under my breath, trying to place the name, "Wasn't that the name of..."

"Caine's favored daughter." He seemed pleased, "You know your lore, childe." His tone was mildly impressed, "At any rate. Who are the three of you and what do you want in my domain? Ah, but would you like some refreshment?"

As we spoke, he gestured for the muscular man that had opened the door and began whispering in his ear.

"My name's Aaron. That's Birdie. That's Ruth. We're actually lookin' to just pass through, but..."

"On your way to where?"

"Ah, actually we've only just barely got an idea of that."

"Mmhmm?" A thin, barely perceptible eyebrow lifted. Actually, I noticed that his eyes stayed on me a bit longer than either of the boys.

Mr. Muscles had left and come back with a tray of glasses. At least the stories of Tzimisce hospitality were true. Then again, could we really be sure that the glasses were just full of blood and not anything...extra?

**Part Three, Fair Exchange, as told by Birdie (again)**

He was watching Ruth. That really couldn't have been good. Aaron noticed it, too, and kept flicking his gaze to her as he spoke. He was starting to get kind of protective of the blonde little Malk, in a weird way. I had to wonder if she wasn't as batty as I thought and was sneaking him drinks of her blood while I wasn't looking. Bond theguy with the muscles. Hey, it makes sense.

I took the offered glass from the man and sniffed at it. It didn't really smell spiked, so I hazarded a drink, letting barely a drop slide into my mouth.

_Damn. _

It wasn't human, that's for damn sure, but I couldn't really place it. Vysana must've seen the puzzlement on my face, because he detoured from the conversation with Aaron over our purposes in Kamchacta to address me.

"Elder Lasombra. You can imagine the difficulties of acquiring it, but well worth the effort if I do say so myself." He lifted his glass and peered into it for a moment, the blood so dark and thick that nothing could be seen through it. "Of course the man I was dealing with was more than ready to part with a little for some information provided by my business associate. I believe you've met Sinead already..." He took a long drink from the glass.

Ruth gave a noticeable shudder.

"Yeah," I said. What the Hell did she _see_ under that woman's disguise?

The Tzimisce watched Ruth for a long moment, his feminine features drawn thoughtfully.

"The trouble with Malkavians...is that they do tend to see too much sometimes, don't they?"

Was he speaking to her or us? Their gazes were locked and she gave a slight nod.

"Vys..._Mr. _Vysana... we kinda need to get back to the point." Aaron said quickly, leaning back and folding his arms against his chest. Did he just call that thing Mr? Well...wouldn't be good to disrespect something that could turn us into something like the creatures in the sewers. Or worse, elaborate furniture.

Vysana's eyes detached from Ruth's gaze and refocused on Aaron, seeming irritated at first before smoothing back over to the formalities.

"The point...yes. The point is that you wish safe travel through this district to the laboratory in the valley, yes?"

"Yeah."

"If I permit this...whatwill you do for me in exchange?"

Damn. But did we really expect anything less? No self-respecting Kindred did anything for anybody else without wanting something in return.

The sane ones, anyway.

"Could you give us a couple? Gotta talk it over with Ruth and Bird." Aaron sounded irritated, but that was no big shock.

The Tzimisce inclined his head and rose, glass in hand as he silently moved back into the adjoining room he'd emerged from.

"Goddamn," Aaron grumbled, "Had ta figure, wouldn't it and why the _fuck _does he keep starin' at you!"

He was talking to Ruth, who merely shrugged with genuine confusion in her eyes.

"The ugly guy in the sewers said Vysana's got a thing for blondes." I reminded them, "Maybe that's it? You wanna be his "mattress friend", Ruth?"

I grinned. Could I help it if it was a little funny?

"Brother, I'm gonna fuckin' clobber you." Aaron growled and sunk against his chair, reinforcing my theory that she had, in fact, blood-bonded him to her. Then again, maybe the big fucker thought he'd fallen in love and I was giving her too much credit. Wouldn't _that _make things more Goddamn difficult than they already were? "Look, what the Hell are we gonna do?"

"Give him blood?"

"Yeah? You gonna open a vein, Bird?" Aaron smirked and shook his head at me.

"What about Ruth?"

"Fuck n..."

"Wait, that's not a bad idea." Ruth said softly, looking up at us. "I mean...I can put it in a bottle or something like this guy did." She held up the glass that, so far, she hadn't even touched.

"No offense, Ruth, but you're not even an ancilla. What the Hell would he want with _your _blood?" Aaron asked.

"Ya, but she _is _a Malk. All these years and you've never had Malk blood, Aaron?"

He grunted and shook his head, "Never touch the stuff. I like my mind in the state it is, thanks."

"My point exactly. He can get a head trip off it... or he can give it to some of his...er... less welcome guests or something."

"Right. Well... If Ruth don't care, I guess..."

The door opened again and the Tzimisce came striding back, the glass in his hand refilled.

"Have you had your opportunity to speak?" Something told me he'd been listening at the door.

"Yeah," Aaron said and glanced to Ruth, "I think we've got something we can offer you..."

He inclined his head as he returned to his seat behind the desk, leaning forward and twining all fourteen of his fingers together.

"I'm listening..."


	22. The Flames of Deception

Chapter 22

**Part One, Alliance, as told by Danelle**

"Dillon..." Nicole had excused herself to one side of the room, a sleek cell-phone against her ear I thought I caught the pattern of leaves on the pale green cell cover, but didn't take the time to properly identify it, "Could you cancel that appointment up at the college for me? Something's come up..._there's_ a good boy. Thank you, Nugget."

I blinked and looked towards her when she hung up. From the corner of my eye, I caught a small grin forming on the Prince of Choctaw's face as he watched Nicole. She merely shrugged and smiled.

"Chicken Nugget. It's been his pet name for a while. I can't quite remember when it started, but it does seem to fit very– Don't the two of you look at me that way! I don't think that way of my childe, believe me."

"We believe you, Prince. Now...about this problem?"

"Yes, this problem– yours and ours. Now, it would seem to me that the only problem we all three share is that of the Sabbat pack being within a Molotov cocktail's throw of our cities. The other burdens are yours to bear... Who are we to help oust Prince England? _We've_ had no trouble with–"

"Unless of course," D.M. cut in, "...you could pay back our help somehow, if we decided to lend a hand..."

"Of course," I bowed my head slightly. Owing a boon to two princes at once could be a dangerous thing, but what else could I—ah! An idea struck me. "I have a contact or three in some very interesting places. If there's any information that might be of interest to you, I could find away to procure it..."

"I'm not entirely certain that's quite a fair arrangement for spending such an amount of our precious time and resources." Prince Nicole's voice was rather sharp as she returned to her sitting position, crossing her legs and threading her fingers together over one knee, "What do you think, D.M.?"

"Mm. Well..."

I cleared my throat lightly, "I apologize for interrupting, but may I make another suggestion? If the ousting of Prince England is a success, then that would leave the city up for grabs so to speak..."

"Not exactly," Nicole replied, shaking her head, "There are the other city officials, of course."

"Unless something very terrible happened to them," D.M. added. His voice and expression were very thoughtful. The suggestion was a bit of a shock coming from him, being a Toreador, but then...D.M. could be compared to the "quiet kid" in every grade school. From the expression on Nicole's face, I could discern that she was also moderately shocked by D.M.'s suggestion. Whether it was the idea itself or the fact that it was he who made it, I couldn't tell.

"What do you suggest happen to them?" She asked with a neutral tone.

We sat in silence for a couple of moments as D.M. took the time to consider his answer.

"First of all, we find out if one or more of the officials have any problems with their leadership and coax them into helping us by offering a piece of the pie, so to speak. It would make everything go much smoother."

I gave him an almost dark look. More or less it was what Prince England was trying to get me to do to Aeslehc, but...sometimes one had to do what one had to do. That given, I nodded in agreement.

"Now how to best find out," He mused.

I smiled, "Those contacts I mentioned..."

"Yes?"

"One is the childe of an assistant to the Nosferatu Primogen in Oklahoma City."

"Perfect."

**Part Two,** **Lusus Naturae, as told by Christopher**

I was, once more, suspended from the hook in the ceiling, unable to hear, see...but I could feel the movement around me as the pack went about their dastardly activities.

I could feel the movements becoming more frantic, erratic. And through the Viniculum bond they had forced me to share with them, I could feel their intermingling thoughts shift from a sort of order to confused panic.

Whatever had happened, I knew my love, my Aeslehc had to be behind it...for none other than she had the talent of instilling such sheer dread in the hearts of such monstrous beasts.

The movements slowed and compressed around me and I felt the vibrations of a hurried conversation...

My last conscious thoughts as an intelligent corporeal being were of the claws prying open my tender skull with the care and precision of a handicapped six year old on crack cocaine.

**Part Three, Blind Bestiality** **(and not the fun kind, either), as told by Aeslehc**

The zombies had already begun to break in and climb inside the warehouse. Through the broken, filthy windows, I could see a large, bloody husk hanging from the ceiling get quickly let down, but I thought nothing of it at first. Another of their pathetic experiments. Where the devil could they be keeping Christopher? He was a whiney bastard sometimes...all the time...but I'd be damned if I let the fucking shovelheads have him. Then again, I couldn't let them think they had a way of getting at me. Sure, it would piss me off, but...

"Aeslehc, what is that?"

Henri had moved back to my side, dropping the accent again as his voice took on a strange, hushed tone. I followed his gaze as the main unloading door of the warehouse opened to reveal what I assumed had been hanging from the ceiling inside just a few minutes earlier. The zombies converged on it, swarming like little decaying ants on something twice their size... And they were all thrown off in various directions, one so far that we had to duck to avoid getting hit. Mia then came to stand at our side as well, her eyes narrowed.

"Their Tzimisce got a hold of someone. Either of you have a weapon?"

I looked to Henri, who had already begun to pull at the darkness around him.

"Why don't we let you handle this, then, eh?"

"You should have brought it, you know." Henri watched me carefully as he spoke, "You could've ended it with one blow."

As Henri left and approached the...thing, Mia turned to me with a lifted eyebrow.

"_It_?"

I waved the question off with a hand, "I don't know what he's talking about. He's old. His mind is going. You know how it is."

"...yeah, sure."

The zombies were inside the warehouse, out of our sight. Mia jogged off to get a look inside, where she could better control them, while I stood and watched as the Tzimisce's...thing got brutalized by Henri's harnessed darkness. More than tendrils–_pillars _of shadow came out of seeming nowhere to crash against it again and again. It dodged what it could and began bounding–on six limbs–away from Henri and towards me.

It was precisely Christopher's height and half naked, its bloated stomach cut open and crudely sewn back together with its own skin. Some poor idiot's arms had been grafted beneath its own...and it had no eyes or ears and...

It slammed against me, knocking me back and down to the ground.

His entire face was just a single wrap of skin with a mouth and a nose and his hair, save for a strand here and there, was completely gone from the portion of his head that still remained.

Snarling, growling, fangs extended...

It looked like half of the skull had been severed to provide him with a crude lobotomy.

Its claws were digging into my flesh and I found that I couldn't fight it. The notion disturbed me, deep down.

Something from behind caused the monster to lurch to one side with a deaf shriek and a sudden shudder of violent death.

"I never could stand the Tzimisce projects," Henri mumbled as the shadows retreated and he extended a hand to help me up. I ignored it with a glare of almost wounded pride and stood up on my own, watching what must have once been Christopher dissolve into ash.

At least they hadn't forced him to consciously join the Sabbat. I'd have had to kill him myself.

Screams and fire distracted me from my thoughts, the hot flames licking at the inside of the warehouse, exposing themselves to the night air through the windows broken by the zombies. They didn't bother me. Fire never had bothered me. Rotshreck wasn't even a thought in my mind, even when I felt the kindle of destructive heat against my face. Henri, however, had dissolved into shadow and retreated several hundred yards behind me.

Part of me dwelled on the pile of ash now being dusted away by a soft wind, another part on the goings on inside, and still another at a form that was emerging from the flames within, through the same door they had sent my dead husband-thing. I growled, steadied myself, and approached him.

"Marcus."

"_Daemon Seige._" His voice was sing-song as he spoke the long-dead name, dark eyes gesturing to my empty hands, "I see you've left The Beast at home. What a shame. It could be just like old times."

"It's just an antiquated weapon."

Marcus was flinching at the fire behind him–not noticeably, of course...or so he thought, anyway. I continued walking forward, my gaze seeking out his own. Unfortunately, he was wise enough not to meet my eyes.

There was a time when he hadn't known any better...and I daresay that might have been the cause of his horrendously fucked-up nature later on.

He glanced around, "Oh. Did it die already?"

"I'm not here about Christopher. I probably would have killed him anyway, eventually." I shrugged, although my disposition soon turned darker and my eyes narrowed, "I'm here because you're in my city, probably terrorizing poor Danelle, a threat to the only Frenchman I know with his own on-command tentacles, and..." I ground my teeth together, clinched my fists, growled... "You. Fucked. With. My. NEOPETS ACCOUNT."

He snorted. "One. This is hardly a city. You moved into a grouping of houses, gave it a library and a town hall fifty years ago and called it a city. Two. What I do to Danelle is no worse than what you do to her, merely in a different capacity. THREE. That...man..." Marcus' eyes suddenly flared up with furious rage, "...does not deserve to exist...Everything I have done, he has done a thousandfold worse..." After a moment, he composed himself and cleared his throat, "...and four, I refuse to acknowledge the last with an answer."

He really did like to talk. I suppose it worked to my advantage, as Henri had managed to come around behind him while he was distracted, once the flames inside looked like they were petering out. Who was putting it out? I wondered. I hoped Mia had made it out unscathed, despite the unsettled feeling I received in general from the idea of Flesheaters, but in all honesty, I hoped everyone of her zombies were nothing more than burnt flesh and bones.

"How dare you compare...what the _fuck _makes you think that I do anything to Danelle even remotely similar to your mental and physical torment?" My fangs were exposed in a snarl while he continued to stand rather calmly before me.

He gave a short laugh and stepped forward, well within grabbing distance and leaned down...

"Because I am honest about who I am. Can you say the same? What do you think would happen to the girl when she finds out that the only other kindred she puts most of her trust in has been lying to her this whole time? You ordered the first of what I've only continued, you know..."

It had been a long, long time since I'd suffered frenzy. Not since I gratefully indulged in my beast had it come to the surface so fiercely.

Before the red engulfed my perception completely, I already had my hand around his throat and my fingers reaching for his slanderous tongue...


	23. Bending Backwards

Chapter 23

**Part One: Not Really a Delicacy, as told by Ruth**

Zillah was frowning at our offer, arms folded across his chest. My eyes kept being drawn to the extra two fingers on each taloned hand. I'd have made a great Tzimisce, but Aeslehc got to me first. How irritating was that thought? God, what must it be like? Had to admit, there was just something about the way blood and everything else feels under the fingernails. Then again…could I have taken the sounds of the souls wailing from the living handiwork?

At any rate, he was looking particularly dispassionate as we presented our offer.

"And what use would I have for weak blood? I would very much rather have her body…"

A chill shot through my spine. However, as I glanced to Aaron, who was sputtering and mute with rage…I couldn't help by smile.

"Er. Mr. Vysana…" Birdie leaned forward, "See, if we let you have her body…her sire'd shove our own severed arms up our asses. I hear she likes that kind of thing. Who knows what she'd do to you?"

Vysana sneered and let out a thin chuckle as the temperature almost noticeably dropped.

"Idle threats will only get you a visit to the laboratory, Brujah. Just who is this weak-blooded Malkavian sire that you intend to sic on me?"

"Aeslehc Kralc." I said, interrupting Birdie as my eyes met the alien green of Zillah's.

After a period of silence, the Tzimisce hissed through his teeth and rose, expression never changing.

"You have five minutes to be beyond the borders of my domain before you become no more than a messy burden to my carpet."

We didn't need to be told twice and were out the door before he could tell us again…not that I believed he would have.

**Part Two: …Sans the Dignity of Lubrication, as told by Birdie**

We were back on the road and back out in the open…with four and a half minutes still to spare before we had to be way beyond the red light district. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that the Tzimisce was somehow making damn sure that we were getting the Hell out in good time.

"How long do you think we have before the assassin shows up again?" I asked, mentally cursing the fact that I didn't have my guns. An assassin…even a damn good one… can't last very long against a few hundred well-placed bullets.

"Don't know," Aaron replied, "But we need to hurry our asses up. I don't particularly want to get turned into one of those nasty fucks in the sewers."

"Ditto, but I'd also rather not find my head cleanly severed from my body with a bamboo cane, so…er…can we pick up the pace? Why the fuck did we have to leave the car behind…."

"It was too big for the sewers, genius."

"Maybe we shouldn't talk so loud," Ruth suggested, suddenly watching the rooftops. My eyes followed, scanning the shadows that seemed to be everywhere. It's amazing what a little paranoia could do. Suddenly I felt like there were a thousand eyes on us.

The road took us towards the edge of Zillah's territory, though the changes in domain weren't entirely obvious. The red light district faded into a little commercial area that was just as decrepit and run down; it just had a smaller whore to human ratio, from what we could see, at any rate.

"I smell tuna."

The moment the words left Ruth's mouth, she was off running.

"Ruth! Wait up, woman!"

"I've got to find Kiwi!"

So much for silence, I thought, as we finally caught up to her. It wasn't hard, considering she'd stopped dead not 100 feet away.

"…Jesus Christ."

The three of us could only stare at what faced us. They were creatures, more than likely creatures in the employ of Zillah Vysana, but not like the ones in the sewers. One appeared human, with short blonde hair, olive skin and brown eyes, but was set like a rock. We could see it in the unnaturally bulging muscles beneath his skin. If someone was dumb enough to try to hit him, I figured they had a good chance of shattering every bone in not only their hand, but up the arm and shoulder too. The other two were twins, sculpted to be thin and jagged, spines covering their flesh, but with a fucked up alien beauty, particularly when considering their huge black eyes, thin lips, and distended fangs that dripped sticky redness. They had gray skin and small, deformed wings that would never fly in their lifetime.

"Say something, Bird." Aaron hissed under his breath, ramming an elbow into my ribs.

"Um." I stared towards the creatures, which had begun their deliberate approach. "…Hey…uh…did Zillah send---'

"Ssssssss." The rock-solid creature gave us a grinning hiss as he broke into a run, taking a direct lunge towards Ruth. Aaron, naturally, stepped in his path and took the full brunt of the impact. It sent them both hurtling backward into Ruth and all three fell into a heap against a building. It was then that the twins headed in my direction.

"It is our instruction to disallow you to leave alive." They spoke in frightening unison as they reached towards me….

…and suddenly burst into dual fountains of blood and horrified screams. Their confused comrade broke away from Ruth and Aaron to lunge at me, but quickly met the same fate as the twins.

"What the fuck? What the fucking fuck?" Aaron was growling as he and Ruth came to my side, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything…." We were staring around wildly as the three bodies dissolved into ash. The streets around us were dead; not even the hookers smattered the area now, and the air was thick with confusion and, I'm not afraid to admit it, more than a little concern.

There was a breeze all around us at that moment, a quick stirring of the air that stopped short not ten feet away. We weren't sure when she'd appeared there, but there she was. She was tall with muscled arms and wore the stereotypical black cat suit expected of lady assassins. She had black hair that fell to her ass in a tight braid (I thought I caught a glint of silver from the tip of it). In one hand, she carried a long, thin cane of bamboo.

It was Magnolia.

"Oh shit fuck damn Hell sonofa..."

"Dignity, Brujah." She spoke in a low, quick voice as she approached us, "You've evaded me thus far, but this is where you end."

"...why did you save us from Zillah Vysana's pets?" Ruth asked, cautiously.

"You are my kills and mine alone. For being wily enough to survive this long, I will now allow you two minutes to pray."

"Springtime," Ruth mumbled, watching the black haired woman, who now turned to her in puzzlement. "You were twelve. Mississippi. Martin Agrassi..."

Christ, I thought, what a time to start babbling in Malkanese...

**Part Three: DO you know what I know? As told by Ruth**

I had no idea what I was talking about. The smell of the tuna factory was so close. SO close...We could have been there that night if we hadn't had so many delays. That was where my Kiwi was. I knew...

"Malkavian girl...what do you know?" Magnolia had lowered her cane to step closer to me, eyebrows knitted together.

"Sixteen. 1946. Mother...NO!...clanless masquerading as death..."

There was silence. It was only a notion...a half-assed notion at that, considering the voices were only barely spitting out their words. The most mysterious of people don't even know who they are...

"You will die," I said, "Mississippi will hold you. The king wants no story. Go home."

She could take it how she wanted...I only hoped she'd take it how _we _wanted, too.

"...yes. Treacherous bastard..." Bingo. She was whispering to herself before lifting an eyebrow and hissing between her teeth. "...thank you, girl."

At the risk of sounding cliche, she left in the blink of an eye. When I turned back to Aaron and Birdie, the two men were staring at me.

"Ruth...what did you do?"

"Huh?"

"Seriously," Aaron said, "What the Hell did you DO?"

"When?"

"...just now...when you...you made her...how did you?"

"How did I do what?"

"...Goddamn it...Fuck you, too, Ruth!"

And, once more, we were off to see my Kiwi.


	24. When Things Don't Get Better

**Chapter 24: When things don't get better...they get worse!**

_**Part One: Getting Your Hands Dirty, as told by Danelle**_

I stood ankle deep in what I pretended to be water. Really. This was the sort of thing for a ghoul or a damned Brujah, but the request was for me to come myself and I wasn't in any particular position to argue the matter. The esteemed Princes of Norman and Choctaw were waiting on the street above me. And as I glanced back up towards the manhole I'd come from, a familiar presence made itself discretely known from against the wall of the sewage drain.

"Geoffery."

"Evening, Danelle..." The voice was almost like scraping stones, but I'd grown used to it all of these years. Geoffery had the good taste to remain out of view, however. Our last encounter hadn't been nearly so pleasant. The sudden appearance of a creature covered in ghouled fleas and festering boils is nothing if not a major damper on one's evening.

"I trust you're well... Do you have anything for us?" Straight to business. Straight to business. The sooner we were done, the sooner I would be taking a hot bath. A very hot bath. Boiling, possibly, given the smell wafting from the walls of the place.

"Delightful, Danelle. Delightful." Always difficult to tell when Nosferatu were being sarcastic, I'd long ago realized..., "But straight to the matter at hand, yes. A little information for you, a greasing of the palms for me. You know what I want."

He didn't want money, of course, God forbid. That would be just too damn easy. But I had figured as such and reached into my blouse pocket to retrieve a shred of old paper with scrawled writing. Only half a page, but to a collector of little, arcane shreds of paper...it very well might be the very last peice of some puzzle somewhere. I could only hope that the finished puzzle wouldn't unleash something nasty in my direction.

"Here it is, Geoff...now, has anybody voiced any sort of displeasure with how things are run downtown?"

"My sire made a mention...of a certain Gangrel that may or may not hold the position of Gangrel Primogen, who may or may not have a theoretical dislike of the city policies...and I've looked into the man...and he _may or may not _be an old acquaintance of yours and your lunatic prince. May or may not, you understand. You can never be too sure of anything. Ever. You'll know him when you see him. There's a rumor that he may or may not hang around Hefner Park."

Gnarled hands pawed through the darkness and snatched the shred of paper away from me. I could almost hear him greedilly taking it in, reading the language as if it were his own.

"Thank you, Geoffery." I didn't recieve a response and so quickly ascended back to dry land.

"Oh _God_, what is that smell?" The Princes spoke and covered their noses almost as one. I gave them a look short of disdain and began stripping out of the soggy boots and socks.

"I got the information we need, but I need to clean myself up first and, if my contact is correct, I'm probably going to need to track down my prince before we can go and talk to the dissenting primogen."

"Excellent. I will call a car for DM and myself..." Nicole pulled her cellphone back out and gave me a pointed look that told me, and quite clearly, that now would be a good time to start distancing myself from them and to find a hot bath.

"Of course. Feel free to make yourselves at home back at the Elysium and I will meet you there once everything is in order."

We exchanged a brief and polite goodbye as a long black car arrived and the two princes left. I myself made due with walking the way back to my haven. It wasn't far, as Del City was quite small, and the air would do me good and my only worry was that a Sabbat thug would leap from the bushes and accost me. If they could get past the smell, that was. Granted, that was a rather plausable and disturbing worry, but all the same... I would rather not smell up my car and driver, if it could be helped.

As I approached my home, I saw one of my ghouls standing on the lawn, looking uncertain. When he saw me, the boy came running in my direction.

"...what is this about? Didn't I tell all of you to remain inside, where it's safe?" I stopped in the driveway and folded my arms across my chest.

"Yes, ma'am, but...you also said not to let _anybody_ in the house and...Alec let somebody in and I didn't want---"

"You didn't want to get in trouble for letting him let someone in?" He nodded, "I see. Who did he let in?" I wasn't entirely worried about it. I trusted Alec's judgement for the most part...but then, he had always taken my desires and orders very seriously, down to the specific details. Whoever he let in probably had dominated him into doing so.

"Mr. Henri, Ms. Aeslehc, and one other..."

I patted him on the head. "Thank you for telling me. You can go back inside now. They won't hurt anything." I was still very, very angry with Henri, but the neccessity of the moment allowed me to repress it. It would emerge later, possibly in the form of some quite nasty bitterness, but it was put away for then, and that was the important part.

I passed Alexander inside and ignored the wrinkled nose he made at my smell. "I'm going to bathe. Let Aes, Henri, and Christopher know I'm home."

"Mr. Christopher isn't with them..."

"...ah...Right, then." What stranger had they brought into my home? "See that our guests are refreshed and entertained and I will be right out."

_**Part 2: I'll Leave the Flesheating to You...as told by Aeslehc**_

"...and she will be right out. Is there anything that I can get for you?"

I was feeling sick. So sick. Why did I eat the tongue? ...I couldn't remember. I'd already hacked it back up outside in the street, but the cramping pain in my gut wouldn't go away. Henri looked annoyed; Mia looked amused.

"Unless you have a barf bag and a severed human leg, I think we're just fine for now," Mia told him, a grin forming on her face.

"You know, the myth is zat you're supposed to eat ze _heart _of your enemy if you want to gain 'is courage, or 'is brain to gain 'is knowledge. Not ze tongue. All you'll get from zat is a sore stomach and a foul mouth. At best."

I waved my hand dismissivly at Henri as the pain began to ebb...but paused, "Wait...did I kill him?"

Mia was silent and Henri only shrugged, "I don't know, woman. I know well enough to get ze fuck away from a Malk in frenzy."

"So do I. That wasn't a particularly pretty picture back there, though." Mia's eyes were curious about something, but she was holding it back. Probably a good thing. If she asked the wrong question, the poor flesh-eater might find her church burned down.

"You're one to talk." And I left it at that as Danelle, with damp hair and dressed in some kind of pinstriped gothic business suit came into the little sitting room. Her eyes fell on Mia first and then me. It seemed that she was making the attempt to avoid looking at Henri.

"I take it things didn't go well? The three of you look awfully bloody. And...you're getting it on my furnature."

Well, she was certainly taking that well. I was sure there'd be a new furnature set in the room by the week's end, though.

"Oh, things went fine. If you consider a horde of flaming zombies, a decimated warehouse, a Tzimisce-created Chris-monster that Henri had to put down, a wicked stomach cramp, and a still-existing Lasombra bastard 'fine'."

She frowned. "Why...didn't you kill Marcus?"

"I don't know. I was in a very pleasant little frenzy at the time. I ate his tongue and then I don't remember anything else. And Henri and Mia here were far, far away at the time."

"Self-preservation comes first. Always." Henri stood and folded his arms across his chest.

"Of course. Aeslehc, I need you to come back to the Elysium with me. I found a solution...ish...to our OKC problem. It's sort of complicated, so I'll fill you in on the way."

She turned and left with the expectation that we follow her. I shrugged, rose with Henri, and followed. Mia did the same, but once outside opted to take her leave.

"I expect my money within the next week or Del City will be swamped with zombies." She pulled her hood up over her head, gave us a nod, and turned away. It would be a somewhat long walk back to her haven, but I had my doubts that she'd have any trouble.

Danelle had a ghoul pull her car around to the front and open the doors for us. It was halfway towards the Elysium that she began filling us in on what exactly she was doing.

"Gangrel primogen? Did he say anything else about him? What he looks like?...a name?"

"Only that he's not happy with how things are run, hangs around Hefner Park, and we know him already."

My expression changed. To what, I wasn't sure, but I _did _feel it change. And it hurt a little.

"Aeslehc, why are you grinning like that...?"

"...Nitsua."


	25. Nothing is Ever Easy

Chapter 25 (Beware, the author was full of caffeine and at school when she wrote this…)

**Part One: …the Hell am I looking at? As told by Birdie**

After having faced Magnolia and lived to tell the tale, we'd continued, following the ever-growing smell of tuna until the buildings started to run out and the road turned into gravel. As the road petered out, we hit a sign that read: Tsisis, Kamchacta Cannery. And there was only one building in sight.

Never seen a cannery before until then, but even _I _figured there had to be a sort of warehouse kind of feel to it. You know, I was expecting a lonely little brick building with some smoke stacks. When we finally got to the end of the road, the building staring at us was less of a warehouse, less of a blue-collar workplace and more of a looming piece of abstract art. The arched roof jutted up into the sky, built with a spewing chimney, cutting off halfway along the building and into a flat, Adobe-style type of balcony. A fence looped around that half, made of some sort of metal with black, sticky-looking paint. Sickly green shingles made up the façade of the building, as opposed to the smoky brick we'd expected.

The parking lot was empty, save for one thing: the car we'd arranged for at the beginning of the trip to Kamchacta and had had stolen a few nights before. My eyes widened hopefully as I ran towards it and forced open the trunk.

My babies. My precious babies! I picked up and cradled various articles of the assortment in the trunk. Oh, how I'd missed my Gang Warfare Arsenal. I glanced over at the sound of snickering as Ruth and Aaron approached. I narrowed my eyes.

"…you fuckers don't know how naked I've felt these last few nights, alright?" I growled and set about making sure each of the weapons was in perfect shape. Aaron laughed and Ruth's eyes set on the building with a lifted eyebrow.

"This is it." She said with a definite certainty, "…Kiwi's inside…" Her voice was thick with excitement and I could tell she was having to restrain herself from running in. The girl was smarter than she let on. Obviously we'd been led here…so more than likely a trap or fifty were waiting for us inside. "…Kiwi."

Aaron scowled at her for a moment and reached around me, grabbing an Uzi and clip from the trunk, "Let's just get this fucking over with. I'm ready to go home."

His tone was bitter and I stared at him for a moment. Where had _that _come from? Kiwi was the man's best friend, for crying out loud….The whole trip was his idea in the first fucking place. I didn't say anything. I glanced over to Ruth in time to catch a fleeting smile that faded when she caught me looking. She shrugged and slid to my side to pick out a gun that was about three sizes too big for her. A small cannon, practically. Well, whatever. We might need the heavy fire. I began strapping several of the weapons to me. Guns, grenades, knives- you never know when you'd need every little thing. Sometimes there's no time to reload…..

**Part 2: I can't quite put my finger on it, but… as told by Ruth**

Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi

Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi ….

I was having to keep myself rooted in that spot. If I ran in and got myself killed right away, there wouldn't be a chance to see my Kiwi. My Kiwi….MY Kiwi! I glanced to Aaron, watching his jealousy with veiled amusement. Birdie was watching me from his spot at the trunk. Could he tell what I'd been doing? Brujah weren't known for their brains, but Birdie'd never been dumb. Oh no. Never. I hid my smile and chose my weapon. My brain was moving from here to there to there to THAT place to here and there and back again…. I turned to stare at the cannery that looked more like a giant cottage to me. A cottage for Kiwi. I wondered where he was. My eyes scanned the dark windows. No. No. …yes, there. I dropped my gaze to a slip of black window barely peeking above ground.

"Basement," I murmured.

Aaron gave a sigh, "Naturally. God forbid he be anywhere convenient. Come on."

The door was glass and easily broken. Aaron smashed it with his foot and fist and stepped on through. Birdie slipped in behind him. I watched them for a moment and put my hand on the handle, giving a ginger tug to simply pull it open without having to step through the glass. The men stared at me blankly and glanced to one another.

"…er…yeah, sure." Birdie said, "Do it the easy way."

The inside was more like we'd expected. A small, decent looking office area in the front; towards the back, we could see various machines in a concrete and metal setting. Things seemed easy at that moment. We could clearly see a pair of elevators that would take us to the basement and there wasn't a guard or trap in sight.

If I couldn't sense him near, I'd have sworn we were in the wrong place.

"Wait." Aaron moved for us to stay put, his gun in hand as he scouted through the little office area, checking for traps and signs. He paused a moment and bent down beneath one of the desks. When he came up, he held a grayish finger in one hand. I stared at it. The black and red nail polish on the almost too-long nail was a dead giveaway. I gasped and leapt for it, tearing it out of his hands.

"Kiwi!" I shrieked. The world went red----

**Part 3: Can't I get a damn break? As told by Birdie**

She was running towards the elevators. It was almost too late that I saw the little runes etched into the floor.

"Aaron! Grab her!" I was already running towards her, "Help me keep her back!"

"Are you fuckin' nuts, Bird?! She'll rip us both—"

"Look at the floor, man!"

Aaron acted twice as quickly as I had, reaching her a moment before I did and just in time to grab the thrashing, clawing, snapping Malkavian and hold her away from the arcane carvings in the floor. She kicked her shoe off and it skittered over the markings. A flash of light and a small explosion caused the area in front of the elevators to erupt in flame. Our intrinsic fear of fire sent us fleeing back towards the broken front door. Aaron was still manhandling Ruth, considering she was actually trying to move back _towards _the flame. She was practically tearing him apart with her claws, though he was able to keep her fangs pointed away from him. Giving her a flip, he dropped her to her stomach and sat on her back, pinning her arms to her side. He was bleeding all over the place and growling under his breath.

"So what now, Bird?"

I broke a chair leg and tossed it to him, "Stake her for now. We'll figure something out." I was looking back towards the flames, narrowing my eyes as I noticed the shoe that had set off the trap. It wasn't burning. It was still as intact as it ever was.

Were the flames just an illusion?


	26. Looking Back

(Once more, the author is at school and full of caffeine. And is sleep deprived and horny….and kind of in a rush…read at your own risk.)

**Chapter 26: A brief look into the Past**

_It was around the turn of the 20__th__ century, a good three nights after the destruction of a small east coast American city known as Kitel. An abandoned plantation, with an overgrowth of local vegetation, surrounded by a peculiar circle of charred land served as something of a prison or a concentration camp for the few vampires and their human assets that weren't allowed the luxury of simply perishing in the sudden, violent attack. _

_The smell of flesh and blood hung heavy in the air, the stark reek of death overpowering, yet delicious to the creature that stood at the gate of the dilapidated manor. Its yellow-ringed brown eyes watched as a small parade was marched, dragged past. At the back of the procession was brought a very young thing, cursing in Italian as her captor- a tall, thin man of Italian descent himself- dragged her, half-naked, by her hair. _

_The creature recognized the girl from two nights past. She had come upon the pack in their den as they plotted their attack. Consequentially, she'd been locked in a closet until the massacre of her city, when she was drug forth to watch everything she cherished burn to the ground before her. _

_"Marcus…" The word, uttered in a dark voice with the lightest of London accents, was an order to pause. The heavy, clawed hand of the creature was held up for emphasis. The man paused and turned to look upon his leader._

_"Si, Daemon?" The girl in his grip writhed and twisted, sobbing and shrieking. The creature, known by Daemon, regarded her with cold, curious eyes._

_"I…like this one…." Daemon prodded the girl with a strange, medieval weapon held in one hand. All the girl could do was curse and stare up at her captors defiantly, "…break her spirit. And then…" It grinned wickedly, "We can begin the breaking of her mind…"_

**Part One: Rabbicat Dog? as told by Aeslehc…**

Danelle was suddenly very silent. She was prone to these things, I supposed. The name Nitsua brought up a light of remembrance in her eyes and she suddenly appeared to leave us mentally. Neither of us had seen Nitsua since 1904 or so, though the two of them had been quite inseparable on that brother/sister level at the time. He and_ I _had our inseparable moments as well, though those often involved the mutual thrusting of pelvises.

"Danelle…" I kept my voice gentle as I leaned over Henri's lap in the car seat to lightly prod her leg.

At the touch, she let out a very interesting shriek and began clawing at the window. Henri and I exchanged a glance. His eyes were accusing.

"Aeslehc…what did you do to 'er?"

"Nothing." I said. "…recently. Danelle! It's us! Henri and Aes…. Calm down!"

She paused, composing herself and looking around as if unsure of how she'd ended up in a car.

"Oh." Her voice was soft, "…Oh…excuse me." She cleared her throat and glanced away, eyes gazing through the dark car window as if nothing had happened.

We made it to Elysium in relative silence from that point, exchanged introductions and explained the situation to the two Princes when we arrived, and soon were back in the car, moving towards Hefner Park. Danelle and I sat in the back, alone, as Henri rode up front with the driver.

"It's…going to be interesting to see him again." She said softly, examining her hands, "I do hope he is the same."

"It's been a long time," I said, "He's bound to have changed at least a little."

"…I don't like change."

"Typical Ventrue," I said, with a thin smirk, "But…I'm sure he hasn't changed so much that you can't adjust, right?"

She was silent again for a moment, watching the road fly by before looking to me again, "…have I ever told you what he means to me?"

I gave her a surprised look. A confession of emotion? Who was this and what had she done with my little Ventrue?

"No," I said, "Not really…."

She leaned back in the seat and let out a gentle, useless sigh, "I've told you of the American city I'd made my home after the…untimely death of my sire, right?"

I nodded slowly, "…mmhm. Kitel, wasn't it?"

"Yes. When it was destroyed by the Sabbat pack, I was taken prisoner…" She hesitated before continuing, "And, the long and short of it is, Nitsua rescued me from that place. Marco released me against his pack leader's wishes…once he was finished with me himself, but they would have hunted me down and found me if not for Nitsua"

"We were with him for four years, Danelle. Why didn't you ever tell me?" I kept my voice curious and neutral. Of course, I'd already known what had happened.

"I don't know, really. You've always thought of yourself as my protector. I guess I didn't want you to feel like you had competition."

I looked at her with barely veiled amusement, "…you make a good point," I said, after a moment, "I probably would have killed him and worn his ears."

She actually turned to look upon me with a half-grin, "...the disturbing thing is that I can actually picture that."

-

The lake was dark, with a hazy mist drifting over it. Part of me expected a horde of Mia's zombies to rise up from it. As the thought passed my mind, a shadow of a figure moved between the trees surrounding Lake Hefner, followed by a smaller, four-legged figure at its heels. I froze before I realized that it was moving too smoothly for a zombie and that the smell of decay wasn't on the air.

We left the car in an abandoned parking lot near the playground, the driver ready to leave again at a moment's notice. Henri remained with it just incase of trouble. The old shadow lord leaned against the hood with a foul-smelling cigar between his lips.

The sound of a barking, yapping dog caught my attention…as well as an acidic scent and something very, very warm on my leg. How had it gotten so close to me without my realizing it? Never mind how the animal could stand our presence.

It was small and white and looked like a cross between a rabbit and a fluffy white cat, but its actions and bright, panting face screamed 'dog' somehow. I shook off some of the urine from my leg carelessly, looking down at the animal as it sat back and stared at us with a laughing face.

I exchanged a look with Danelle, who stooped down to give it a ginger pat on the head.

"He has Nitsua's scent on him." She said. I nodded and scanned the trees for any sign of the old Gangrel.

The little white dog let out a high-pitched bark and I looked back down to him. It was then that Nitsua decided to make his appearance.

By slinking up behind me and latching his clawed, furry hands to my chest.

**Part Two: Of Rabbits and Men, as told by Danelle.**

I couldn't help but laugh, though of course I attempted to hide it. Not well, mind you, but I did make the attempt.

Nitsua was the same as ever, it seemed, though he had apparently let himself frenzy a few too many times since our last meeting. The long, soft ears peeking from his hair flopped over almost comically and I could still see that cotton-white tail from above the waistband of his pants. Patches of white fur covered his body now, it seemed, and his teeth had begun to protrude in the front. He had long, dirty claws on hands that were on their way to being less and less hand-like. He was positively hideous…in a disturbingly adorable way.

And he was presently attempting to dry-hump Aeslehc.

"…ah…Nitsua?" I cleared my throat a bit, "…before you let your rabbit urges get away from you, Aes and I have come to—gack!"

The dog had attached itself to my leg. I scowled in disgust and shook it off, "Nitsua! Keep your animal off of me! My leg is not a love-toy!"

"Loki!" He whistled as he himself released a bewildered…yet amused Aeslehc from his hold. The little dog bounded to its master's side. Nitsua looked upon us with a buck-toothed grin on his face, "Well, ladies. It _has _been awhile."

I studied him for a moment longer, taking in the rabbit features. I'd always wondered _why _the Hell he'd taken on the appearance of a bunny. Rabbits were hardly predators, but I supposed it probably had something to do with his obnoxious libido. I imagined he and Henri would have a great deal to talk about in that regard.

"We need to talk to you about Gary." Aeslehc said. I rolled my eyes. God forbid she bother with at least a little small talk…or not blurting straightaway our purposes just in case people were watching.

Nitsua glanced around, "I have no problem with Prince England or his policies. In fact, I support him 100." He grabbed Aeslehc and pulled her in close, hissing something in her ear that I couldn't pick up on very well. She merely grinned at his words, however, as she was released. They exchanged a nod.

"…I have things to do, ladies. Loki will keep you company. …I'll see you both soon."

And with one leap, the bunny-vampire was out of our general vicinity. I blinked a few times and looked down to the grinning dog.

"Aeslehc, what just happened?"

She grinned like a madwoman and scooped up the little animal, heading back towards the waiting car and Henri, "…trust me."


End file.
